


A Round of Robins

by Cuffs_Alister, msummer300



Series: Earth 127 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, NCT (Band), NCT Dream
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dream as Superheroes?, Fencing Really, Set Mostly in Gotham, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-04 09:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 50,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuffs_Alister/pseuds/Cuffs_Alister, https://archiveofourown.org/users/msummer300/pseuds/msummer300
Summary: In most universes, the number of Bat-vigilantes is limited.  In others, that number is quite large.  In this one, Batman has a "round of robins" as it were.  Well, actually, it's a veritable flock of mismatched birds.Inspired by the music video for "Boom."





	1. Because I Know Something You Do Not Know

Billionaire Adoption Latest in Long Line of Wayne Wards

At three forty-five this afternoon, it was made official. Gotham’s darling, Brucie Wayne, has adopted his latest ward. Fifteen year old Jisung “Jason” Park was a resident of Melisandra’s Home for Disadvantaged Youths until Mr. Wayne decided to adopt. Jisung is just the latest of many wards taken in by Mr. Wayne, including the young Timothy Drake-Wayne, current CEO of Wayne Enterprises. 

In addition to his adoption of Jisung, Mr. Wayne has announced that he will be holding a fundraising gala at the Gotham City Museum of Modern Art as a benefit for youth arts programs hosted by Melisandra’s. 

“I want these kids to have an outlet,” said Mr. Wayne when asked to comment. “In some cases, their situations are pretty dire. They don’t have anywhere to put all of that aggression and angst. If they can learn to direct it into the arts, I hope that these kids can learn to live happily and healthily." 

Mr. Wayne declined to comment on Jisung’s chosen English name, and whether that had any effect on his decision to adopt this particular teenager. 

***

**Unnamed Rooftop Near the Warehouse District**

Sabre’s feet hung off the edge of the building, swinging as he read the headline article in the special addition of the _Gotham Gazette_. So the local billionaire had adopted another kid. No one was really surprised. The latest edition to the Wayne family was just one of a slew of kids adopted from all walks of life. Sabre put down the newspaper and sighed.

“Did we really have to patrol by the harbor today, Z?” Sabre whined into his headset. Salt would be hell for his blade. Too much, and it was going to cost him an arm and a leg to replace.

“I heard a rumor that there was going to be something going down. Evidence pointed to a minor drug deal. With the updates I did to your sabre you should be able to take out both parties just fine,” Z said, his voice crackling from the headset.

“Yeah, well nothings happening yet, and if I stay out here for too much longer those fancy updates to my sabre aren’t going to matter because it’ll all be covered in rust.” Sabre snipped back.

The sword bounced off the back of his leg, crackling with electricity as he stood.

“Your precious sword is going to be fine. We’ll fix her right up with some emery paper when you get back.”

Sabre tapped into his earbud impatiently.

“Eheh… just five more minutes Sabre, I promise. If the guys don’t show up by then we’ll call it a night,” Z said, clacking in the background making his voice cut out.

Sabre sighed. “Sure Z. If I need a new blade by the end of this though, you’re going to pay for one. And not one of those garbage standard spring-steel ones either. The next one’s an SR71*.”

“Sure thing,” Z hummed. “Shoot. We might not be able to wait the five minutes. We got a Bat incoming on the CCTV.”

“A Bat? I thought you said these guys were minor?” Sabre backed away from the edge of the roof.

“Yeah, but… I thought he left Gotham…. Shit! Sabre, get out of there, you got Red Hood incoming fast!”

Sabre’s spine went rigid, and then he ran. Technically they weren’t approved by any of the Bat-family, but the last one they wanted to cross was Red Hood. Sabre wouldn’t stand a chance against him. He didn’t stop running until he was downtown, coming down a fire-escape into an alleyway.

“Did he follow me?” Sabre panted into his mic. “He wouldn’t have followed me instead of busting that dealer, right?”

There was clacking, faster than normal. “Not that I’m seeing. If you want to --”

Before Z could finish his sentence, Sabre’s head snapped in the direction of a scream. Maybe he would be doing some crime fighting tonight after all. Sabre ran in the direction of the scream, drawing his sword as he ran.

“Looks like our real fight today is downtown,” he said. He leapt into the fray with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This is in reference to the fencing blade SR71, not the Blackbird stealth plane.


	2. I Would Go Most Anywhere to Feel Like I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung is feeling a little out of place in his new "home."

**Wayne Manor, Gotham City**

Jisung was seriously beginning to wonder why he had been adopted by Bruce Wayne. Like, why _him_ of all people. Jisung had a plan. He wasn’t going to get sucked into Gotham’s underbelly. He was going to perfect his dancing, maybe go to university with a dance major, and join a crew one day. None of those plans involved being adopted by a billionaire who then proceeded to leave him alone in a giant house for almost a week with only the butler (who was old enough to be Jisung’s great grandfather, mind you) for company. Don’t get him wrong, Alfred was great. More than anything, Jisung was confused. Maybe a little suspicious too.

His suspicions were not helped by the random appearances of his older adopted brother, Tim Drake. His first encounter with Tim is one he definitely would never forget.

Tim had schlepped into the kitchen, and turned on the coffee pot, not once acknowledging Jisung’s presence. Once the coffee was finished brewing, he poured a mug black, chugged it, and proceeded to pour most of the rest of the pot into a travel mug, then leave. On his way out, he waved.

Jisung didn’t get to introduce himself until the next evening, when Tim found him in the library and actually noticed him. Evidently, the first day Tim thought he was someone else. Who he could have been, Jisung wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

It had been a very lonely week for Jisung. No one to talk to, no contact with anyone outside of the manor. His bright spot had been discovering the gym on the North side of the house, equipped with a full wall of mirrors. It was perfect for practicing his dancing. The gymnastics equipment was unexpected though. It looked like it had never been touched.

When that quiet loneliness was broken, it really isn’t surprising, Jisung hid. He was still curious though. Who was this person? Why were they in the manor? And why on Earth were they so loud?

“Alfred, I’m home!” shouted the man, his arms spread wide. Jisung watched wearily from his position behind the banister at the top of the stairs.

“You are early, Master Dick,” Alfred said (entering stage right, Jisung absently noted).

“I actually meant to be here earlier in the week, introduce myself to the new addition to the family and all. Boss saddled me with a triple homicide on Monday though. I’d still be in Bludhaven if I hadn’t already asked for the day off for the gala,” Dick said, far more loudly than anyone else Jisung had experienced at the manor so far.

Also though, triple homicide? Jisung hid further behind the banister.

His attempts at hiding were doomed, however, for soon after he moved to hide, Dick landed in front of him on the landing.

Jisung started, and then winced. He was too close to the railing for this.

“Hi!” said Dick. His eyes were bright blue, and nearly sparkling. “I’m Dick Grayson. You must be Jisung.”

“Uh…” _Very intelligent Jisung. Way to go._ “That’s me. How did you…”

“Get up here? I used to be a trapeze artist in the circus. Still do acrobatics, but recreationally, mostly.” Dick was talking really fast, and gesturing broadly. He was, Jisung decided, a lot.

There was an awkward pause as Jisung stood up before Dick continued. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” He held out his arms like he was expecting a hug.

Jisung put out his arm, scissors pose with his hands, in an attempt to keep some distance. Much to his chagrin however, Dick managed to sweep him up in a too-tight-embrace. Jisung doubted he had even seen the scissors.

“Nice… to meet you too,” Jisung wheezed.

“So,” Dick asked, still squeezing the life out of Jisung, “Do you want to learn flips?”


	3. Trust Me, They Don't Know It Yet, But They're Going To Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something strange about the Wayne family.

**Wayne Manor Gymnasium**

“Absolutely not,” Jisung said. He crossed his arms. 

“Why not? You did so well from squatting, and from standing. What’s so different about doing it from flying? And there’s the net,” Dick argued. Jisung couldn’t believe he was getting _puppy dog eyes_ from an adult. Dick Grayson really was something else.

“I don’t care that there’s a net. I… I can’t just _do trapeze!”_ Jisung was turning paler by the second. Part of him was convinced that Dick was going to force him up the trapeze. Even the idea made his spine tingle uncomfortably. 

Dick frowned at him, eyebrows coming together. The expression was strange on him -- he seemed like such a sunshiny person. “Jisung… are you scared of heights?”

Jisung looked at his feet. “...Yeah…” He jumped a bit when Dick grabbed his shoulders.

“Hey, it’s ok. We don’t ever have to do it. Or if you decide you want to, we’ll work our way up to that. Take it slow.” He tilted Jisung’s head up to look him in the eye. 

“Wh-yawn- what are we taking slow?” Tim said from the doorway to the gym. 

“Trapeze,” Dick said brightly as he moved out of the way. 

Jisung was a little stunned, to be perfectly honest. Tim was wearing most of a tuxedo, but his tie was undone, the comberbun was missing, and the whole ensemble looked like he had been hit with a wrinkle gun. Tim yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “Well, I should leave you to it then. Reminder though, we do have a gala to attend tonight.”

That was right. Dick and Jisung still had to get ready for the gala. 

“Have you ever worn a tux before?” Dick asked. He slung his arm across Jisung’s shoulders. 

“Dude, I haven’t even worn a suit before.”

***

“So… this is probably a super awkward question, but am I a charity case?” Jisung asked as Dick was tying his bowtie.

“Of course not! Bruce genuinely loves us. He’s actually hosting the gala tonight because of you. Your dancing inspired him.” Dick tugged on the sides of the bowtie, beaming at his work. 

“Then why is he never around? Like, there were so many kids he could have adopted, why me?” Jisung tried to slouch, but something poked him in the stomach. “Also, why do we have to dress this way? Like, I feel like I can’t relax.”

Dick laughed. “Y’know, showing up in a tee shirt and jeans would be a real power move. Might scare away the old money though. They’re used to things being a certain way, and when that doesn’t line up, they tend to, well, they tend to not donate.”

“So status quo, basically,” Jisung deadpanned. Dick had avoided his questions about Bruce. Dick, who was normally so open about everything. Granted, Jisung had known him for all of six hours, but that was plenty of time to get a read on a person. Jisung was suspicious. If he wanted a straight answer, he was probably going to have to ask Bruce himself.

Jisung continued, “If the old folks want us to look so nice, why does Tim get to show up looking... like that?” Jisung was pretty sure Dick knew what he meant. 

“Tim gets to dress like that because he’s the family eccentric-genius. To be honest, I don’t know why Alfred bothers pressing his clothes. He always ends up sleeping in it and getting rumpled.” Dick slid his jacket on.

As far as Jisung was concerned, rumpled was an understatement. Before he could say so, though, he was being tugged along by Dick. Jisung checked his watch. _Ah _he noted blandly, _we’re going to be late._

***

**Rooftop Across from Gotham City Museum of Modern Art**

Sabre had a coffee with him this time. He was going to need it. Wayne galas always ran late into the night, and were often targets for the more unsavory residents of Gotham. Sure enough, whenever one was happening, Batman was busy with the Justice League, usually somewhere off world.

“Sabre, you still there?” Z called over the headset. 

“Yup. Just sitting on a rooftop, sipping my coffee. Waiting to get myself killed defending a bunch of rich people from supervillains because none of the Bats could do their job tonight.” If you couldn’t tell, Sabre was bitter. He was also cold. Even in his black dyed fencing jacket, the wind cut right through him. 

“Hey, would you rather it was Red Hood or Black Bat out there?”

“No, but I don’t think I’m qualified to protect people from, like, Scarecrow, or the Joker, or anyone in the League of Shadows. Seriously, Z, we’re small time, not _protect Brucie Wayne_ level.”

“You got this Sabre. In addition to your mad fencing skills, I electrified your blade, like Nightwing’s escrima sticks. You’re golden to handle anyone who’s actually going to show up.” Z’s confidence was, while somewhat welcome, a bit much. 

Sabre shivered again. He had no idea how long he had been out there, but the gala had to be coming to a close soon, right? He heard the music stop and had hope. 

“He’s giving the speech now,” Z said. His voice fizzled over the headset. “I’ve got the livestream up on my tablet.”

“Ah…” Sabre sighed. 

“The kid is with him. Doesn’t look super happy to be there.”

“Would you be? I know I’m not.”

The silence said more to Sabre than any come back could have. 

Soon enough, the museum started to empty. Sabre started moving between buildings, watching for any attempts at assaulting gala guests. With the modifications to his sword, Sabre took down low level criminals with ease. At some point, he lost the feeling in his off hand from the cold. 

“Hey, Sabre, I think it’s time to go,” Z said. 

“What do you mean? I’m finally getting warmed up here!” Sabre said, jovially.

“Ok, one, it’s three in the morning and you have a tournament in 12 hours. Two, you got Black Bat incoming quick and I really don’t think you want to cross her.” Z’s tone was flat. 

Sabre froze for a moment. He was right. Z was usually right anyway, but in particular, he knew Sabre well enough to know he was scared of getting caught by the Bats. Especially the brutal ones.

“Heading out now,” Sabre said. 

As he ran off into the night, a shadow appeared behind him. The mysterious boy with the fencing sabre and bad form would definitely be making it into Black Bat’s nightly report.


	4. You Keep Your Small Life in the Big City.  Give Me a Big Life in a Small Town.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new hero in Dakota City. The Lee family is not amused.

**Dakota City -- Lee Residence**

Haechan “Don’t call me Donghyuck” Lee was fuming. Why, do you ask? Well, apparently his family decided to move out of their nice mid-sized, clown-free city. Where to? Why, the most _Bat_-shit crazy city of them all. Gotham. 

Now, Haechan was sure he would have no problem finding new friends. No, his major concerns were two-fold, and also related! He really didn’t want to have to deal with a supervillain attack on a greater level than the local gang leader, E-bon. He also had a secret. For several weeks now, Haechan had been hiding certain abilities from his parents. Yeah, Haechan was a Metahuman, a “Bang Baby” if you will. And his parents? They had no idea.

“Now Donghyuckie, don’t pout. Your father will have an amazing position at Wayne Enterprises,” his mom chided over dinner. “We’ve even managed to get you both enrolled at Gotham Academy.”

“But I _like_ Dakota High. I _like_ Dakota City. And our super-community is way less crazy than the people in Gotham. Seriously! No crazy clowns here.” Haechan put down his fork. Stabbing someone in the eye accidentally would not help his case at all. 

“This is non-negotiable, Donghyuck. We’re moving to Gotham,” his father said.

“Dad, I don’t think --” Minhee said, before she was cut off.

“We are not discussing this,” he interrupted.

The rest of dinner passed in silence.

***

“Minhee, you know they decided to move because of the Meta-breed,” Haechan whined. Dinner was long over. Their mother had handed each of them a box after the leftovers had been packed up and told them to pack. The move was happening in less than a month. 

“We don’t know that,” Minhee, his light, his twin sister, replied. She was always the charitable one between the two of them.

“He got a job in _Gotham._ The most anti-meta city on the planet. And it’s not even because of legislature or public outcry or anything. It’s that… that Batman!” As he finished, a stack of books flew off the desk.

“Haechannie --”

“Don’t _Haechannie_ me,” Haechan grumbled as he picked up the books. “You know this is why we can’t tell them, right?” 

She smiled then. “Your secret is safe with me. How long are you going to be able to keep it hidden in a city like Gotham though?”

Haechan put the books down on the desk heavily and huffed, “I don’t know. As long as there aren’t any clown attacks? Or plant monsters? Or I don’t have to rescue my own family from armed robbers only to get thrown out of the city I will likely never be able to call home?”

“Oh quit being dramatic.” Minhee dumped an armful of stuffed animals into a box. “At most you’d be tossed out of the house. Hey, maybe you’d get adopted by Bruce Wayne himself.”

“Nah. I don’t have the eyes for it.” Hey, gotta make the best of a bad situation, right? “You don’t think he’d make me wear blue contacts do you?” Haechan put his hands to his cheeks in a mockery of shock. “I don’t think I could take the humiliation.”

Minhee studied Haechan’s face for a bit. “You know,” she said, “the new kid at Wayne Manor had brown eyes, I think.”

“Wait, really?” Haechan sat down on his bed. 

“Yeah, really. I’m pretty sure he’s Korean, actually. In the paper they said his name is Jisung Park.”

“No kidding?” Haechan really shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what? Kid number five? How many black haired, blue eyed kids could you find in one city anyway? Under his breath, he added, “Even the local celebrity is crazy there…”


	5. The Secret Impresses No One.  The Trick You Use It For Is Everything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dubstep helps to relieve a whelming weekend.

**Gotham City -- Wayne Manor**

Sunday night found Jisung popping his frustrations out in the gym. First, there had been the gala, a whirlwind of handshakes and pitying looks that left a weird taste in Jisung’s mouth. Why should they pity him? Did it have to do with his being an orphan? That didn’t bother Jisung so much, having never really known his birth parents. Or did it have to do with his adoptive parent being Bruce Wayne? To him, that was slightly more concerning.

Add to that the surprise appearance of another sibling, making the evening even better. Cassandra didn’t talk much, but Dick had advised him to not make her mad. Apparently she was known for having punched one Lex Luthor in the face at her first Wayne event. Dick also told him not to follow in her footsteps. And that yes, Luthor was there. 

Then, on Saturday, Jisung got to have an actual conversation with Bruce. 

Jisung was surprised when he walked into the office to find Bruce sitting behind his desk. Spread across the table was a mountain of paperwork. Bruce looked like he’d been expecting him. 

“Uh… hi,” Jisung said. What were you supposed to say to your adopted father whom you haven’t seen in a week? 

“Hello Jisung.” Bruce was looking directly into his eyes. It was a little disconcerting, almost like he was looking _through_ Jisung instead of _at_ him. “If you feel you’re ready, you’ll be starting school again on Monday.”

“Yeah, I think I’m ready to go back. It gets pretty boring around here with just Alfred.” Really, Jisung thought he might tear his hair out if he had to stay in the Manor alone for another day.

“Good to hear. I’ll just need you to sign these enrollment forms then.” Bruce gestured to the paperwork and handed Jisung a pen. 

Jisung took a good look at the paperwork. That… wasn’t the Gotham High letterhead. “Um, I’m already enrolled at Gotham High. It’s a fine school, and I’m not really focused on academics.”

Bruce sighed. “Jisung, this isn’t a point of discussion. I’m having you transferred to Gotham Academy.”

“But isn’t that overkill? Like, I get that it’s a good school and all, but I’ve got my life planned out. I don’t need the extra academics if I’m just going to be a dancer. Besides, I’d have to leave my frie-”

“Gotham Academy is safer for you. It’s in your best interests,” Bruce interrupted. 

“Safer? I mean, yeah, the high school runs drills for supervillain attacks but they haven’t actually had one happen in years.” Wasn’t Gotham Academy right across from Arkham anyway? 

“That’s not what I meant, Jisung. Yes, security is higher at Gotham Academy itself, but it’s also closer and in a safer neighborhood. You’re less likely to get kidnapped on the way home.” There was something in his face. Concern wasn’t quite right, but neither was pain. 

Jisung squinted at Bruce across the table. He still hadn’t taken the pen. “What do you mean “kidnapped?” Is that a legitimate concern?”

Bruce nodded. That’s what it was. Grave certainty that something like this was bound to happen. It was so different from the image of Brucie Wayne that the media projected. So different from the man who had given the speech at the gala the previous night.

“You’re a public figure now, Jisung. We need to take precautions to make sure you stay as safe as possible.”

Jisung was floored. “If this is such a concern, wouldn’t I have been safer at Melisandra’s? Why did you even adopt me?” Jisung couldn’t deny that he had been curious, but he knew that asking outright was a low blow. Still, he continued. “Dick says I’m not a charity case, but it sure feels like it when my only company for a week was a sleep deprived adopted brother who thought I was someone else, and a butler, who while very nice, is old enough to be my great grandpa!”

“Jason!” Bruce roared as he stood up.

Jisung took a step back. Up to then, everyone had been so good about using his real name. Why would Bruce have called him by his “English” name?

“Bruce… does my name have something to do with why you adopted me?” He leaned forward, still standing ready to bolt. 

Bruce really did look pained now. He sat back down, head in his hands. “No. It’s just a coincidence.”

There was silence for a moment. Neither moved; they hardly even seemed to be breathing. 

Bruce was the first to break the silence. “This family -- we’re far from perfect. You’ve seen how Tim is, you met Cass. Dick might seem like he’s a ray of sunshine, but that’s a veneer at best, and I… All of our childhoods got cut short. All of us are pretty broken. When I heard about your dancing, I thought you might be able to offer some stability. You have your life together in a way no one in our lives has had before.”

“So you turned my entire life upside-down? I -- I can’t be -- your stability?” Jisung was shaking. He took a deep breath. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice though, do I.”

Bruce looked him in the eye. “I need you to be safe Jisung. I can’t lose anyone else.”

Jisung nodded. Bruce could have been referring to his parents, but Jisung had a feeling he was talking about someone else. He took the pen and signed the papers. Starting on Monday, he was going to be a student of Gotham Academy.

Sunday night, everything had been prepared for school. Jisung had time before bed, and was working out his frustrations in front of the mirror wall in the gym. Dubstep blasted through the speakers. Normally it wouldn’t have been Jisung’s first choice, but the inconsistency in the rhythm and the aggressive, grating nature of the synths matched his mood almost perfectly. If he was a screamer, he would have screamed. Instead, he danced. Low, aggressive, percussive. If he didn’t get it out then, he was going to snap at someone the next day for sure.


	6. You Got A Friend In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not easy, being the new kid.

**Gotham Academy**

All the students around Chenle were buzzing to each other about the new kid. Apparently he was the new adoptee of the local billionaire, Bruce Wayne. Chenle wanted to find out more. But of course, none of the other kids were going to gossip to him about the new kid. They never talked to him about anything. Sometimes, he wondered if they knew he spoke English.

Up to this point, Chenle himself had been the talk of the school. He was the weird Chinese kid. No one seemed to realize he wasn’t an exchange student. He was permanently enrolled for as long as his parents saw fit to send him to school half a world away. Somehow though, Chenle couldn’t find it in himself to miss Shanghai. Maybe it was precisely because no one here seemed to care. The name Zhong didn’t mean anything in Gotham City. 

Wayne, though, Wayne was an important name here. Wayne Enterprises was the biggest employer in the city, and the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation was one of the largest charities in the state. Chenle decided that he didn’t care about all that. He wanted to get to know this Wayne kid for who he was. He was going to make his first American friend.

“How long do you think it’s going to be before this one disappears?” the girl sitting next to Chenle asked her other neighbor.

“What do you mean?” her neighbor asked.

“Well, the last three Wayne kids to come here all left before graduation. Dick Grayson and Tim Drake were expelled, and Jason Todd just stopped showing up one day. My older brother told me,” she replied.

Chenle found himself leaning in. What could have gotten these kids expelled?

“Isn’t Dick Grayson supposed to be a goodie two shoes?” the neighbor was leaning in too.

“Apparently he was expelled for “blatant disregard for safety protocols.” My brother said he was doing a gymnastics routine on the stairs.”

_What a way to get expelled,_ Chenle thought. Before the girl could say anymore, the new kid walked through the door. 

The first thing Chenle noticed about him was that he was lanky. Not in like a gangly sort of way -- he looked strong enough -- but he was pretty much all arms and legs. His hair was dyed a color that was slightly off pink. He was scowling. _Maybe he doesn’t want to be here either?_

“Why don’t you introduce yourself?” the teacher asked. 

The Wayne kid sighed. Then, quietly, he said, “I’m Jisung. People call me Jason sometimes.”

There was murmuring at that. Jisung sat down on Chenle’s other side, ignoring the chatter. Chenle waved and smiled, but Jisung ignored that too. _Wasn’t one of the other Wayne kids named Jason too?_

***

Chenle approached him at lunch. If he was going to make his first friend, he was going to have to actually talk to him. Chenle plastered his brightest smile across his face.

“Hi!” Chenle said, standing across a lunch table from Jisung. “You are Jisung Wayne, right?”

Jisung finished chewing part of his sandwich before responding. “Actually, I’m Jisung Park. I don’t use Bruce’s name.”

“Ah… I am Chenle Zhong, but most people cannot pronounce my name so they call me Lele.” Chenle’s smile was growing more and more fake by the minute.

“Alright Chenle,” Jisung ate another bite of his sandwich. “You gonna stand there all day, or are you going to sit down?”

Chenle’s back bolted straight at the comment, before he sat down. 

Jisung took a sip of his water and continued. “Do you have lunch? You can’t possibly have eaten already.”

“Uh… I do not really like the food here.” Chenle couldn’t look at Jisung as he said it.

“Yeah, school lunches in America are pretty awful.”

Chenle looked up then. Jisung wasn’t looking at him, but he was holding out half his sandwich. “Alfred made this for me. He’s Bruce’s butler. I tried to tell him I was used to not eating very much, but he packed me a giant lunch anyway. Want some?”

“I could not … how did you know that I was not American?”

“Your accent is pretty thick dude. Like, your English is great, but it’s really obvious you’re not from the US, never mind Gotham.” Jisung was still holding out the sandwich. “You gonna eat or what?” Jisung looked him right in the eye then, and raised one eyebrow. 

Chenle laughed. “I think I must. You are insisting.” Chenle decided he liked this Jisung Park. 


	7. When You're Alone Who Comes Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haechan gets an unwelcome visitor and we take a brief trip to Bludhaven.

**Downtown Gotham City: New Lee Residence**

Haechan’s first thought when he saw the new apartment was wow, we downsized. Granted, that is what happens when you move from a single family home to a two bedroom apartment. His second thought was I really hope this isn’t on Batman’s patrol route. He did not voice either of these thoughts. His parents were upset at him enough for not wanting to move; he didn’t need them to ground him or something.

“Haechan? Haechan!” Minhee was waving her hand in front of his face.

“Wha-- cut it out Minhee,” he said as he swatted her hand away.

“We’re supposed to be unpacking. And you’re the older one. You’re supposed to be more responsible.” She lifted a box onto the lower bunk of their bed.

“We’re the same age.” Haechan gave her a dry look, and turned to hanging clothes in the closet. “Anyway, I was just thinking about the possibility of this being on Batman’s patrol route. You know I’ve heard that he stalks around the city looking for criminals?”

Minhee opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a sound, there was a clang from the fire escape outside their window. Both twins’ attention snapped toward the noise.

Through the window, they could see a dark shape, a person, dressed all in black. The person was holding their head, hunching over. Something metal glinted in the light from their room. Haechan moved to get Minhee behind him.

The person turned to look through the window and stopped when he saw Haechan and Minhee. They were young, not much older than the twins. Their hat had fallen off, exposing brilliant white hair ending in deep black roots. Their mouth was hanging open. Haechan, in turn, was staring back, trying to look as threatening as he could.

Just as Haechan was reaching for the boxcutter Minhee had been using, the person in the window smiled awkwardly, waved, and jumped off the fire escape. Haechan realized as they left just how ineffective the box cutter would have been. The person had been carrying a sword.

“I hate this city already,” Haechan muttered.

***

**Mid-city Gotham: Apartment of an Unrelated Lee Family**

Jeno groaned as he woke up. He reached around aimlessly for his phone, alarm blaring as he did so. It was Saturday, so he shouldn’t have had an alarm.

Except, he realized as he sat up reading his notifications, there was a tournament. He tousled his hair a bit before closing his phone and moving to shower. He had to thank Jaemin when he saw him later. If not for his texting Jeno about the tournament, he likely would have forgotten.

One shower and a protein bar later, and Jeno was doing his morning work-out. He was going to have to leave soon. Sabre started at 3:00pm. Jeno planned on arriving at 1:30, to get settled, changed, and warmed up. As he finished exercising, there was a beep from outside his apartment building.

Sure enough, when he looked out the window, there was Jaemin, sitting in the driver’s seat of a compact car. Jeno grabbed his bags--packed early the night before--and a banana, and rushed out the door.

“You ready for gold, Jeno?” Jaemin asked, smiling brightly.

“I don’t know if it’s going to be gold today,” Jeno replied. He loaded his bags in the trunk. “My head is still weird from that fall last night.”

The speed with which Jaemin could change his facial expressions was still unbelievable to Jeno. This time, the smile shifted to furrowed eyebrows and a pout. “Do I need to bring you to the hospital for concussion testing?”

“And tell them what?” Jeno bit back. “I’ve been moonlighting as a vigilante and fell down a fire escape? Or maybe that I tripped through the door to my own apartment building and my parents didn’t notice that anything was wrong?”

“Hey hey, no need to get defensive. I was just worried.” The grin was sneaking back onto Jaemin’s face, but Jeno could see the stress lines around it.

Jeno sighed. “We should get going. At this rate I’m not going to have enough time for warm ups.” Then, after the car started, he added. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried. I just… we can’t get caught. That worries me.”

“It’ll be ok. If you want, I can try and test you myself once we get there. And maybe we should give it a rest on patrolling for a bit. Let you rest up and heal.” Jaemin drove off.

“You know I’m not going to be able to sleep after the tournament, and we’ve got to drive back from Bludhaven anyway. I’ll be fine.” Jeno was smiling now, trying to reassure his friend.

“Why are you doing a tournament in Bludhaven, again?” Jaemin asked. Jeno could hear the levity in his voice.

Why indeed… “This was the only A-rated tournament in the Northeast this month. At least it’s only in Bludhaven, and not, like, Portland, Maine again.” The trip to Portland had been rough on both of them, not only because they had to drive through the entirety of New England and a piece of New York state to get there, but on the way back it had started sleeting. The boys were lucky to have made it as far as Boston before they had to stop.

In comparison, Bludhaven was about an hour north of Gotham, on the coast. The tournament was being held at an athletic center near the boardwalk. Jeno and Jaemin made most of the ride in comfortable quiet, the only voice the occasional GPS direction. That changed as they exited the highway in downtown Bludhaven.

“That’s quite the billboard,” Jeno said, looking up. Sure enough, there was a Bludhaven City Department of Tourism billboard featuring none other than Nightwing.

“You think he consented to have his picture used like that?” Jaemin asked.

“Probably not. I feel like if he tried to make a case for himself, he’d probably get arrested,” Jeno said.

Jaemin studied the GPS before saying, “You’re probably right. Do you think this is the turn they want me to make?”

“That’s a one way in the wrong direction. They want you to turn at the next light.”

“Thanks.”

Eventually, they made it to the venue for the tournament. They were early enough that the epee pool bouts were still in progress. There were no other sabrists yet. Jeno paid his entry fee, then went to change. Jaemin prepped their lunches.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Jaemin looked up to see a large male fencer, face covered with sweat, standing over him.

“I’m Jaemin, Jeno Lee’s assistant. He should be back soon if you want to talk to him,” Jaemin said, trying to sound pleasant. The fencer had a foil in hand. Not another sabrist then. Wonder why he hasn’t gone home yet. Foil has to have been finished for a couple of hours.

“Yous two are from Gotham, yeah? We want yous out of our tournament.” The fencer crossed his arms, almost swiping Jaemin across the face with his sword.

“Is this guy bothering you, Jae?” Jeno asked. He cut a striking figure in his knickers and white socks. Jaemin had once tried to get him to wear hot pink knee highs. Jeno had explained that only epeeists wear anything other than white. Jaemin was pretty sure that wasn’t true, but he humored Jeno anyway.

After he finished laying out their lunch, Jaemin said, “I was just about to tell them you already paid to be in the tournament, and that you were using this to keep in shape for the Olympic trials.”

Jeno’s eyes got wide and he stepped back. “I -- Jae, we talked about this. I’m not ready for the Olympics. I only got my A rating two months ago.”

Jaemin sighed. Even with their nightly activities, Jeno was a horrible liar and his confidence was abismal. “You are so ready for the Olympics. You destroyed the competition at the last tournament.”

As he spoke, Jaemin scanned the room. Fencers from the epee tournament were openly staring at them now. The foilist was still standing tall, arms crossed. Jeno was still the only sabrist in the building, and all the referees were occupied. Still, Jaemin thought they would both probably prefer it if the day didn’t culminate in a real fight.

“Come on Jeno,” Jaemin continued, “You should eat something before you start warm ups. I know you probably slept through breakfast.”

“I did not!” Jeno responded. Then, at a much lower volume, he added, “I had a protein bar.”

"That doesn’t count and you know it,” Jaemin chided. “Come on, at least one of us remembered to bring real food.”

The tension was still high in the air. As more sabrists arrived for the tournament, the foilist spoke to each of them. They huddled together on the opposite side of the epee tournament, now in the direct elimination bouts. Jeno started his warm ups while Jaemin packed their lunch away, and took out a water bottle for each of them.

Jeno stretched after lunch, to start his warm up routine. Then, he practiced his footwork. Advance, Retreat. Advance advance, retreat. Lunges. Ballestras. Even flunges. (See Chapter Notes 1 and 2) It was all muscle memory by now, but he wanted -- needed -- to make sure. He couldn’t be carded for something as stupid as crossing his feet on the strip.

Before target practice, Jeno got into the rest of his fencing gear. 3:00 was fast approaching, and he couldn’t be late. Jaemin helped him into his jacket, after the chest protector and wire were in place. Jeno triple checked to make sure it was the tournament wire, that he hadn’t accidentally packed his nighttime wire. (See Chapter Note 3) Once his jacket was zipped up, Jeno found himself a practice dummy and practiced his bladework. Head. Chest. Head. Chest. Flicks. Make sure to come en garde in three, not six. (See Chapter Note 4) That wouldn’t get him carded, but an A rated fencer should have nothing less than perfect form.

Finally, it was time for the tournament to start. Jaemin zipped him into his lame and clipped the extra wires to the bottom. The referee called all the fencers over for equipment checks.

He stopped chatting when Jeno came up for a mask punch test.

“Hi! I’m Jeno Lee,” Jeno said as he held out his mask.

The other fencers gave him dirty looks. His smile faltered a bit.

“Yous the Gothamite?” the referee asked.

Jeno swallowed thickly. “Um… yeah,” he said. “This was the closest tournament this month. The next closest was in Louisville, and I don’t really have the funds to travel all the way to Kentucky…” Jeno knew he was rambling. Normally it diffused tension. This time, the air just got thicker.

The referee glared at him as he stamped Jeno’s mask. Jeno swallowed again and took his mask back. He was getting the distinct impression that he probably should have brought his nighttime sabre too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A Ballestra is sort of a funny jump/lunge all rolled into one.  
2\. A Flunge is complicated. So a "Flesche" is when you fall forward and run at your opponent. When fencing sabre, however, you're not allowed to cross your feet, so you merge a flesche and a lunge and you end up with this funny sort of hopping move as you try desperately not to cross your feet while beating your opponent on the head with a sword.  
3\. So a "nighttime wire" is not a fencing thing. It's the one Jeno uses when he's busy being a vigilante and falling down fire escapes and stuff. A "tournament wire" plugs into your sabre and some sort of weird fencing machine so when you hit someone with the sabre it beeps. This is how they score fencing.  
4\. Three and Six are positions for holding the sword. Three exposes your wrist, six does not. You're supposed to use three for Sabre, and six for foil and epee.
> 
> (I'm sorry if these notes make no sense. I'm the author who doesn't know how to fence posting for the author who does. I tried.)


	8. In This Life, You Don't Have to Prove Nothin' to Nobody But Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final. First fencer to 15 wins.

**Bludhaven A Rated Fencing Tournament, Sunset**

Halfway through the tournament, and Jeno was doing more than fine. Once he saluted his first opponent and put on the mask, he was like a whole new person. He blew through most of the competition, with minimal touches getting through his garde. In fact, he was perfectly safe until the final match. 

At this point, it probably bears mentioning that Jeno was not a small person. As a junior in high school, he stood almost six feet tall without his fencing sneakers, and all his training helped him fill out his form. With this in mind, he was, understandably, rather terrified when the fencer across the strip from him in the final had a good four inches, and probably fifty pounds on him. He took a deep breath and stood up straight, mask in his back hand. It was just fifteen more touches. He could do that. And being smaller, he had less target, which would help... right?

“Fencers salute!” the referee called. Once they had, and each had their masks on, he continued “En garde, prets? Allez!”

And with that they were off. The other fencer was definitely using his size to his advantage. Normally, Jeno fenced aggressively, advancing quickly and finishing with a strong swipe across the top of the head. With this opponent though, he couldn’t without putting himself at more risk than usual. He hung back while the other fencer advanced toward him. The fencer’s size did exactly what Jeno hoped it would though. It slowed his movements, telegraphing them for Jeno. As the fencer raised his arm for a head slash, Jeno rotated his wrist to six, just grazing the inside of the fencer’s elbow. 

“Halt! Touch right.” The fencer backed off then, returning to his line. 

For the first eight touches, things went about the same. The fencer on the left would advance, and his size would cause him to telegraph moves and lose the right of way. Jeno would scrape through with bare grazes on his lame, Touch number nine, though, went to the other fencer. It also nearly knocked Jeno out.

“Halt! Touch left,” the referee said. Jeno only heard the call distantly. His vision was fuzzy too. He was pretty sure he was sitting on the strip, but the only thing he could feel, other than the pain in his head, was the upward pull of the body cord. Somewhere, he identified Jaemin’s voice. 

“Jeno? Jeno, come on. How many fingers am I holding up?” he said, but Jeno didn’t really process any of it. He tried to focus enough to answer, but for some reason, he could only focus on the pain, the cord, and the mesh of his mask. Was it closer than normal?

“Someone get a medic!” That was definitely Jaemin, Jeno smiled to himself. 

“I’m getting up,” Jeno managed to say. His focus was coming back, slowly but surely. He stood up, wobbling slightly, and took off his mask. That helped immensely with the pain.

When he looked down, Jeno realized exactly why that was. His mask was collapsed inward, right along the line of the strike. In front of him was a piece of springsteel just a bit longer than the diagonal of his mask. 

“Jeno, you ok? When’s your birthday?” Jaemin was at the side of the strip, water in hand. 

“Jaemin, I’m fine,” Jeno said. Then, to the referee, “I would like to call for a time out, to replace my mask.”

“Jeno, the guy should be black carded. That was deliberate brutality!” Jaemin argued.

“At most it was an abnormal fencing action,” one of the other sabrists yelled. The referee nodded. 

“We will time out for equipment replacement. There is no call on the touch.” The fencers saluted and unplugged from the strip. 

Jeno pulled Jaemin to their bags and dug for his spare mask. “Jae, I gotta finish this tournament. I only need seven more touches.”

“Seven touches is a lot when you’re on your second mask and concussed,” Jaemin argued. “I don’t know what their deal is, but that guy is way too strong to be just a fencer. This is dangerous.”

“More dangerous than my new night job?” Jeno asked, giving Jaemin one eyebrow raise. Jaemin crossed his arms.

“It might be, yeah. Do you have any idea how much force it would take to do that to your mask?”

“Considering I was on the receiving end of it, yeah.” Jeno looked behind him at the timer on the strip. “I gotta get back. I’m finishing this.”

Despite Jaemin’s protests, Jeno marched back to the strip and plugged in. He saluted the other fencer, the referee, and the audience, winking at Jaemin. Then, he put the spare helmet on and came en garde.

“Fencers en garde. Prets? All-” The call for Allez was broken by a crash from the windows at the front of the club. Both Jeno and his opponent whipped toward the sound.

Standing amidst the broken glass was none other than Nightwing, casually scratching his back with an escrima stick. It crackled and arched with blue light.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, though his smirk would suggest that was a lie. “Daniel Reese, you’re coming with me. Eh?” Nightwing looked around a bit before he seemed to realize that _Daniel Reese_ was under one of the masks. 

Once he did, he started talking again, stalking toward the strip. “I just have a few questions for you regarding the Second Hand. If you could come with me please --”

“But our bout! It’s the final,” Jeno shouted. He was still in en garde. His hand had slipped from three to six without him noticing. 

Nightwing cocked his head and frowned. “I’m sorry kid, but this tourny’s a bust. You’re barely standing anyway.”

It was true, though Jeno didn’t want to admit it. His balance had been a little off since the night before, and his recent blow to the head was doing the opposite of helping. As his stance was wavering, Reese lunged at Nightwing. His body cord was dangling behind him.

Jeno froze as he watched the exchange between Reese and Nightwing. It was, Jeno thought, spectacular. Nightwing had a level of athleticism that Jeno could only dream of achieving. Before he realized what was happening, Jaemin had dragged Jeno away from the fight, out onto the street. Jeno’s gear had already been loaded into the car. 

Jaemin decided it was time for them to head home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by the fencer. However, I have fenced Sabre exactly once in my life and have been an epeeist for most of my time fencing. If I messed up any weapon-specific rules, please let me know.


	9. Raise Your Hand If You’ve Ever Been Personally Victimized by Joseph McCoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think we can all agree, being the new kid sucks.

**Gotham Academy**

The whispers were irritating. Yes, Haechan was a boy. Yes, he also wore gold glitter eyeshadow and rose gold highlight. He really didn’t see what the big deal was. Oh and yeah, he came to school with a girl. Not his girlfriend. His twin sister. Seriously, ew? 

Instead of voicing any of this, though, Haechan sat silently in his seat, glaring holes in the board and trying not to throw someone across the room accidentally. He could put up with a lot, but the whispers, and his separation from Minhee was nearing too much. He almost left when the teacher insisted on calling him either Donghyuk or Mr. Lee. His name was Haechan! 

“I don’t think I can do this, Minhee,” he complained at lunch. The two of them were given a wide berth by the rest of the school. The two weird new kids. Ha.

“Just ignore the whispers Haechannie. You can do it.” Minhee took his hand across the table. 

“You’re the only person who’s called me Haechan today, you know that?” His voice squeaked. “This is undignified. You’re the only person here who’s ever going to accept me.”

“And _you_ are being dramatic again. It’s only day one. I’m sure things will change.”

As she finished saying that, a junior from Haechan’s class, named Joseph McCoy, came up behind him and dumped a bottle of water on his head. “Hey Pretty Boy,” McCoy said, “Why don’t you take that glitter off and be a real man.” 

Haechan hoped that Minhee was the only person to notice the silverware rattling. He did not stand. “I fucking hate misogynistic white cowards,” he said, loudly enough for the people sitting ten feet away to hear. 

There was a collective gasp, followed quickly by the silencing of the cafeteria. All eyes were on them.

“What did you just say, Pretty Boy?” McCoy growled behind him.

“I said,” Haechan said as he stood up to face McCoy, “there is nothing I hate more than misogynistic white boys who are so insecure in their masculinity that they have to attack the new kid for wearing glitter while he’s eating lunch with his twin sister.” 

To most of the kids in the cafeteria, Haechan was the picture of calm. Minhee, however, was slowly standing out of her seat and backing away. 

“Oh, and my name isn’t _Pretty Boy_,” Haechan spat. “I’m Haechan Lee.” 

McCoy came closer, invading Haechan’s space and standing over him. 

“Looks like I need to teach you some manners, _Pretty Boy,_” he ground out. He took a step back, and swung. 

Across the cafeteria, two freshmen watched as the new kid judo flipped the giant who picked a fight with him. 

***

“I still cannot believe he did not get in trouble!” Chenle was still geeking out about the fight at lunch by the time school let out. Jisung didn’t have the heart to tell him that fights were pretty common at his last school. 

“I mean, he did flip the kid in self defense. Like, I wouldn’t take a punch to stay within the rules either,” Jisung reasoned. “Don’t you have to go back to your dorm?” 

The two had walked to the edge of campus. Jisung was headed back to the manor. Chenle should have split off a while ago.

“Um… I mean, I do not _need_ to go back to my dormitory now. I just do not have anywhere else to go, unless I can go home with you?” Chenle’s eyes were shining with something. Jisung decided it was probably hope.

“Chenle, you can’t just invite yourself over to someone’s house. Besides, I don’t know who’s going to be home. Could be nobody but Alfred. Could be _everybody_.” Jisung shuddered at _everybody_. He would never forget the day he came home to start his homework, only for Cass to slide out from under his bed. She had indicated that she was playing hide and seek.

“Maybe another time then?” Chenle asked.

Jisung sighed. “Maybe.”

At that, Chenle waved and headed back to his dorm. Jisung stepped off campus, heading home.

He had made it about half a mile down the road when he felt it. That sensation like eyes on the back of your neck. He stopped to shiver and kept walking. The goosebumps on his neck wouldn’t leave. He started walking faster.

Something rustled in the leaves by the side of the road. Jisung jumped about a foot in the air at the sound. It was bad enough that there were no leaves on the trees anymore. This was just too creepy.

“Cass, this isn’t funny,” Jisung said to the woods. 

He walked a bit further before he heard the rustling again. 

“I’m serious Cass. You can come out now.”

He didn’t get ten more feet before he felt breath on his neck. And then, he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for once this note is going to only tangentially be related to the story. We'd like to know if you guys recognize the chapter titles. If so, please tell us where from!


	10. Help, Help!  I’m Being Oppressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is in trouble with someone. Jisung has become the target.

**Unknown Warehouse**

When Jisung came to, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Wherever he was, it smelled like rotting garbage, mildew, and salt. The second thing he noticed was that he couldn’t see. 

_Ah_, he thought. _So I have been kidnapped._

Soon enough, he heard rustling and clacking around him. The clacking was almost metallic sounding. There were murmurs, but low enough that he couldn’t quite pick up on what they were saying. Jisung tried to stay calm, but despite his best efforts, his breathing picked up and his heart was pounding.

_Are they holding me for ransom? What’s their goal? Are they going to kill me to get at Bruce? _

Jisung jerked against the restraints. _Am I being tied down… with bungee cords? What even is this? _Sure enough, he was secured to a metal chair with high tension bungee cords. 

“Stop struggling,” a voice whispered in his ear. Jisung bolted upright. “Good. Now be a good kid and whimper plenty for your father.” 

Whimper, Jisung did. He couldn’t help but think that the accent was familiar, though he couldn’t remember why. 

“What do you want?” Jisung asked. His voice cracked.

“What do we want, he asks us, Mr. Wayne.” Jisung could hear the smile in his kidnapper’s voice. They were enjoying this. Jisung fought the urge to shiver at that realization. “What we want, Mr. Wayne, is half your total wealth, in assets, transferred to us before midnight on the full moon.”

Something cold pressed against Jisung’s jaw as a hand tangled in his hair and yanked back. “If our demands are not met, you will lose a second Jason.” 

Before Jisung could say anything, the hands left him, shoving his head forward. The chair rocked with the force. Soon, the room was silent again.

***

Eventually, Jisung found he could hear the sound of waves. It wasn’t regular enough to keep time, but it was better than the silence that had seemingly surrounded him since the kidnappers left. He must have been close to the harbor. 

The waves and the darkness under the blindfold had nearly lulled him to sleep when someone outside yelped. The yelp was followed by a couple of heavy thuds, a shout. Then, there was a gunshot. His head snapped in the direction of the sound.

“Jisung Park, you in here?” a new voice, young, almost harsh, called.

“I’m here!” Jisung hoped the owner of the voice was friendly. He really wasn’t looking to get kidnapped again, or shot. Nope, neither of those options was particularly desirable. 

As Jisung got lost in his own thoughts, the owner of the voice must have approached. He winced as the blindfold fell off, sun bright outside. The owner of the voice was undoing the bungee cords. 

He really shouldn’t have looked down. Jisung’s heart nearly stopped when he saw that his savior was wearing a bright red helmet and brown leather jacket. Strapped to his thigh was a gun. Even if Jisung knew anything about guns, he was too frightened in the moment to notice what kind it was. He was being rescued by _The Red Hood,_ wouldn’t you be?

“Hey, you ok? Can you stand? I really need you to get up, little bird.” Jisung processed that someone was talking to him, probably the Red Hood, but the words weren’t really reaching him.

The Red Hood continued when Jisung showed no signs of response. “Damn Bat needs to get a handle on his child problem. Seriously, who let little bird get kidnapped?”

“No one let me,” Jisung slurred in response. “And Bruce isn’t a bat. He does have a child problem though…”

Later, Jisung would forget all about it, but in that moment, he could have sworn the Red Hood froze in shock for a second. It was all over soon though, as men armed with more weapons Jisung couldn’t name came pouring through the entrances to the warehouse. Red Hood swore and pointed one of his guns at the ceiling. When he fired, Jisung absently realized it was a grappling gun. 

“Come on little bird. I can’t help you from there.” Red Hood held out his hand. 

“You’re not kidnapping me from my kidnappers, are you?” Jisung asked. He felt like he was in a fog, but there was enough coherence left for him to be suspicious.

“No -- well I guess you could spin it that way?” Red Hood shook his head. “I’m gonna bring you back to Bruce, much as it pains me. Kids aren’t the play things of adults.”

Jisung stepped into Red Hood’s waiting grasp. “Could have fooled me,” he said.

As the guards started firing on them, Red Hood pulled them up onto the roof. An hour later, Red Hood was gone, and Jisung was wrapped in a blanket in the Wayne Manor kitchen, clutching a cup of Alfred’s cocoa with white knuckles. 


	11. Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick Grayson can't cook. It's lucky he knows someone who can. Also, they're both F.I.N.E. They swear.

**Bludhaven: Richard Grayson’s Apartment**

Dick Grayson was heating up a frozen pizza and thinking. This, in itself was not strange. However, the grimace that twisted his features while he was doing these things, was. He couldn’t help it though. It had to be a coincidence.

The day before, Dick had gone out as Nightwing to bring in an enforcer for the second hand. He had tracked the guy to an athletic club on the boardwalk, only to be faced with a teenage Gothamite fencer with something to prove. 

_ “But our bout, it’s the final!” _the kid had said. That he would stand up to Nightwing over that meant it must be important to him. Unfortunately, Nightwing couldn’t let them finish. 

But then he did this thing. He was holding his sabre in proper en garde form to begin with, the same way as all of the other sabrists, but as he talked to Nightwing, his wrist twisted from the position with his wrist exposed to one that protected as much of his hand and wrist as possible with the bell guard. 

The week earlier, Cass had put in a report of a fencer in black who carried a sabre but held it with improper form. In her words,_ “It was like an epeeist or foilist was holding the sabre. The tip pointed across the body rather than up, and the wrist was not exposed.”_

It had to be a coincidence, right? 

The normal person in him was saying that there had to be plenty of people who fenced multiple weapons and would have reactions like that. It was almost too good to be true. The detective in him was saying he needed to look more into this Jeno Lee. 

Dick snapped out of his thoughts when he caught a whiff of something burning. _The pizza!_ And sure enough, when he opened the door to the oven, black smoke billowed out. He opened a window, hoping that the smoke wouldn’t set off the fire alarm.

“Wow, you really shouldn’t cook,” someone said from the window. 

“Hello to you too, Little Wing. What’re you doing here?” Dick pulled his blackened pizza out of the oven and turned to face his guest. Sure enough, there was Jason, helmet under his arm. He gave the pizza one more glance and sighed. “What toppings do you want, Jay?”

“Howzabout I make us something actually good for us?” Jason hopped down from the window. “Then we can talk about how the new kid doesn’t know about the night-business.”

Jason had moved to clean up the remains of the pizza, but Dick was frozen. “He hasn’t figured it out yet?”

“Nope,” Jason said with a pop. “Also, has no one told him about me? Before I got there, his kidnappers threatened Bruce with losing _another Jason._ Kid barely flinched at that.”

“Waitwaitwait,” Dick had started to say something else, but then, it struck him, “Did Jisung get kidnapped?”

Jason shot him a glare over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said. “And I had to rescue him.”

Dick sat down at the kitchen table with an exhale. “When was this?” 

“Today. Well, he went missing two days ago, apparently. Didn’t seem overly-concerned about anything when I picked him up.” Jason was looking through the cabinets as he spoke. 

_I bet he was really worried… _ Dick nodded a bit to himself.

“Do we know where he disappeared from?” he asked.

“When he didn’t make it home from school, Bruce had Oracle inform the family. I’m really surprised you didn’t get the message.” Jason turned to face him, leaning on the counter.

“I was pulling extra time at the precinct, and Babs is mad at me again.” Dick sighed again. “If he disappeared from the walk home, I’m going to drive him from now on.”

Jason crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow. “You insane? That’s an hour and a half drive one way.”

“I’ll have to make it work. Tim can’t legally drive, and Alfred is busy with stuff at the manor. He doesn’t need an extra chore. Bruce is busy too, and _you_ certainly can’t drive him.”

“Why are there never vegetables in this place?” Jason grumbled mostly to himself. Then, louder, he added “Alright, fine. You can drive him. Just try not to be too embarrassing? I know you’re way older than him but…” He pulled out a package of pasta.

Neither spoke for a bit. Dick didn’t have the heart to tell him that the reason he never kept food in the house was because there was no way he should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen. He could probably burn raw vegetables. Jason was cooking away with the random goods Dick had in the house. 

“So…” Dick said eventually. “You heard anything about this kid running around with a sabre?” 

Jason’s shoulders tensed while he stirred. “I think I mighta seen him the other night. There was a drug deal I busted at the docks. Someone was there before me, with a sword. They ran away before I could do anything though.”

“Cass saw him the night of the gala. Said his form was bad.” Dick leaned forward, reaching for his toes. “Then this weekend, I saw a fencer at a tournament with the same sword and same form problem.”

“You think he’s a new rogue?”

“Nah.” Dick released his stretch. “Think we might have a new vigilante. If I’m right, we’ve got a new _teenage_ vigilante.”

“What?”

“The kid at the tournament was just that. A kid. Had to have been fifteen at the most.”

Jason groaned. “And here I thought Tim was supposed to be the last.”


	12. Officer Grayson, You’re Really a Square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick did not listen to Jason. As such, Jisung deals with the social woes of having an overprotective older brother.

**Gotham Academy**

Chenle was following him. Sure, the two were friends, but Chenle was already kind of clingy _before_ Jisung got kidnapped. Now that Jisung had returned, he hardly left him alone on campus. Jisung was getting fed up, and it had only been a day!

The two were sitting in awkward silence on the steps of the school. Jisung had been informed that morning that someone was going to drive him home. Really, he just wanted some time alone. He needed to process things. And yet, it seemed that his new family was finally doing the opposite of that. Jisung didn’t think the situation could get any worse.

Boy was he wrong.

“Why is there a policeman coming through the gate?” Chenle asked. He was squinting in the direction of the school entrance.

“Maybe Bruce sent me a police escort home? I dunno,” Jisung replied. He was only mostly joking.

The cruiser pulled up to the front of the school. They may have been in Gotham, but the side of the cruiser said _Bludhaven Police Department._ Jisung couldn’t help but groan. The window rolled down.

“Hi Jisung! Who’s your friend?” Dick called out from the driver’s seat.

“Do you know this person?” Chenle asked Jisung quietly when he didn’t answer.

Jisung replied, “That’s my older brother. Dick Grayson. He works for Bludhaven PD.” Then, to Dick he said, “I’m not going home in a cruiser. That’s a massive misappropriation of resources on your part, and this is already embarrassing enough.”

Dick’s smile fell. “Well you’re not walking home alone.”

Normally, Jisung liked Dick. He was friendly, and actually wanted to hear about dance, and was teaching him how to do tricks. Right now though, Jisung didn’t want to be anywhere near his embarrassment of an older brother.

“I will walk with him, Mr. Officer Grayson!” Chenle said. Great. Just what Jisung needed.

“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t know how we’d get you home, kiddo.” Dick gave Chenle a soft smile. Probably trying to be placating. “Ok, Jisung. If I promise not to come in the cruiser again, and I let you sit up front with me, will you please come home with me now so we don’t have to make more work for Alfred?”

_Wow… simultaneously pleading and guilt tripping._ Jisung deflated a bit. “Fine,” he said. “But never again.”

***

True to his word, Dick stopped showing up in the cruiser after the first day. However, Jisung wasn’t sure that riding home on a motorcycle was much better. At least, Chenle seemed to think it was cool. This went on for about a week before Jisung decided he had to do something after school to make his pickup time later. 

One afternoon, he decided to talk to his teacher about it.

“I’m interested in extracurriculars,” he said. “Is there anything you can suggest?”

His teacher took a moment to respond. She looked stunned. Was it really that surprising though? “We do have a dance team. I understand that you enjoy dance?” She finally said.

“Uh, yeah… when do they meet?” A dance team would be perfect. Get him right on track with his future plans. 

That night, Jisung got to work. He’d probably need a choreographed dance for the audition, and he’d need to be prepared to freestyle. Maybe he could use one of those tricks Dick had been teaching him. He only went to bed when Alfred informed him that it was one in the morning.

The next afternoon, Jisung was bouncing on his toes outside of the gym. Chenle was there as well, trying to give moral support.

“You will be fantastic,” Chenle said as Jisung shook himself out. 

“I’ll be a nervous wreck until the music comes on, is what I’ll be,” Jisung corrected.

“And then, you will be fantastic.” Chenle smiled.

Jisung warmed up a bit more, before someone opened the door to the gym. 

“Jisung Park?” 


	13. God Help the Outcasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The members of Gotham Academy's Dance Team are jerks. Something's gotta change.

**Gotham Academy Gymnasium**

“Jisung Park?” The girl who poked her head out the gym door had her hair tied up in a high bun. That probably should have been Jisung’s first clue as to what was going to happen. It was one he completely missed, though, in his excitement and nervousness.

“You can do it!” Chenle whispered to him as he entered the gym.

Inside the gym was a small group of dancers. Each wore a black leotard and pink or nude tights. The girl who called him in had pointe shoes. Jisung handed his CD to the girl and went to stand in front of the group. None of the dancers so much as smiled. 

Jisung had a sinking feeling in his gut as he introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Jisung Park. I’m here to audition for the Dance Team.” He played with the seam of his sweatpants.

“What is your primary style of dance?” a boy in the front row asked. It sounded more like a statement.

“Um… I do mostly popping, but I’m learning how to do tricks and freezes for breakdancing as well.” Jisung smiled a bit. 

The Dance Team members looked at each other before staring at Jisung again. “You brought music. For an application piece?”

_A piece? Oh no… _

“Yeah…” Jisung had a feeling this was not an audition he was going to pass.

***

Haechan came into school one day to see a flyer taped to his locker door. Initially, he was going to pull it off and toss it. But then the words caught his eye. 

_Join Danseur, Gotham Academy’s new dance crew_ it said. _First Meeting: First Wednesday in October. Direct questions to Jisung Park, class of 20XX_

He hadn’t really thought about extracurricular activities up to this point, but he might consider this one. Haechan did end up taking the flier down, but instead of throwing it out, he brought it home.

***

**Lee Residence, Gotham City**

“You should go,” Minhee said. They were supposed to be doing homework. Neither even had their books out. 

Haechan stared at the window, half expecting the boy with the sword to drop down again. “I dunno, Minhee. You don’t think it could be too dangerous?”

“It’s a dance club. You’ll be fine.” 

“I dunno. I could push off the floor with my mind for extra lift or something.” Haechan smirked. 

“You? Use your powers intentionally? Never.” Minhee mirrored his expression. 

No boys showed up at the window that night. Nor any bats. 

***

**Gotham Academy Gymnasium**

When Haechan showed up to the first meeting of Gotham Academy’s new dance crew, he was expecting try-outs. Instead, he found himself to be part of a motley group of students waiting on this Jisung Park. Haechan stood by himself, as the kids around him formed small groups and made small talk. He checked the time on the gym clock. Jisung Park was late.

Eventually, two more kids crashed through the gym doors, panting. Haechan would have described the taller one as lithe if it didn’t imply a certain amount of grace. Nope, the kid tripping through the door and Superman-ing to a stop a foot short of the nearest group put a stop to that idea real quick. 

“Jisung! Are you OK?” the other boy asked. Haechan could only hope his scoff wasn’t audible. The kid who face planted was their leader? This was going to go well.

Jisung picked himself up off the floor. “I’m fine,” he said. Haechan could see that wasn’t quite true. When he gave the group two thumbs up, both of his forearms were covered in floor burn. 

_I guess that’s not that bad, _Haechan thought. _ Still… ouch._

“Are you all here for Danseur?” Jisung asked. The room was silent for a moment.

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” he said. _Why else would any of us be here?_

“Ah… well, as you probably heard Chenle here say, my name is Jisung Park. I’m trying to start an urban dance crew. Before we do anything else, let’s circle up and do some icebreakers.”

Jisung’s body language was decidedly not that of a leader. He was slouching, scratching the back of his head while he talked. His facial expression was almost sheepish. 

“Can we just get try-outs over with?” a kid from Haechan’s class, Yang-something, said. When Yang smiled, Haechan could clearly see his missing teeth.

“We’re not doing tryouts,” Jisung answered. Haechan lifted his eyebrows. The conviction was new. Jisung continued, “I don’t want Danseur to be some sort of elitist thing. If I wanted that sort of group, I wouldn’t have started this. Anyone is welcome to join, as long as they like dancing and are willing to practice.

“Now, I believe I said to circle up so we could do icebreakers. We can’t work the way a crew needs to if we don’t know each other.”

Sure enough, the group moved into a… well it was really more of an amoeba, but apparently Jisung didn’t care. There was some light murmuring before Jisung spoke again.

“Alright. I want us to go around the circle one at a time. Tell us your name, age, and favorite style of dance. If you haven’t danced before, tell us what made you want to join. To start, I’m Jisung. If that’s too hard for you to say, you can call me Jason. I’m fourteen years old. My favorite style of dance is popping.”

His buddy went next. “Hi, my name is Chenle. I am fifteen years old. I like all dancing.”

On, the icebreaking went. Everyone seemed to be experienced dancers, until the kid with the gap-toothed smile introduced himself.

“Hi!” he said. “I’m Yangyang. No, that isn’t a nickname; my parents actually named me Yangyang. I’m sixteen, and I’m joining a dance crew because I need to do something physical, but I’ve had too many concussions to keep playing hockey.” He smiled afterwords, once again exposing his missing teeth. Hockey player. It made sense now.

After Yangyang, there were more kids just starting out in dance. Many of them tried to join the Dance Team, but were rejected, either because they didn’t know how to dance already, or what they did know was more street, apparently like Jisung himself. 

Finally, it came to Haechan’s turn. “I’m Haechan. I’m sixteen years old. I don’t have a favorite style of dance, but back at Dakota High I was on the cheer squad.”

“I bet we can put that to use,” Jisung said. “Alrighty. We have the gym for a while longer, so let’s get some music on now, and get stretching. Then we can have some real fun.”

Yeah, Haechan thought as he stood up with the rest of the group. _Fun._


	14. Did You Ever Play Tic-Tac-Toe?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are gained and lost.

**Wayne Tower, Gotham City**

Tim tried to expect anything. He had contingencies for just about any way his life could go wrong, as Red Robin, or as Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. What he did not have a contingency for was his not-so-dead brother showing up at his day job via window with a request he really should have taken to Oracle. And yet, here we were.

“I can’t just look into random kids for you Jason. What exactly do you think I’m going to find?” Tim took a sip of his coffee as he finished.

“I think he might be acting as a vigilante. That kid Cass saw the other night with the sword.” Jason was pacing. At least he hadn’t brought the hood.

“And why exactly do you suspect this Jeno Lee?” Tim tried to sound nonchalant, but that was worrying. Cass had called the person with a sword a “man”. Jason was calling him a kid.

“Dick saw him do the thing with his wrist at a fencing tournament in Bludhaven,” Jason said. “He was in the final against Danny Reese.”

Tim sat up straighter at that. “He fenced against that enforcer Dick was investigating?”

Jason nodded. Then, he went back to pacing. “Dick said he was pretty unstable. Wanted to finish the tournament, but the kid could barely stand up straight.”

“Alright, you got me. I’m interested,” Tim said. “Why come to me though? Why not go to Barbara?”

Jason stopped and turned to look Tim straight in the eye. “Bruce can’t find out.”

Ok, Tim had to admit, that made sense. If Bruce found out, it was likely that this Jeno kid would find himself on the wrong side of the Batman, regardless of whether he was this “man with a sword” or not. And Barbara, great as she was at her job, was likely to spill to Bruce. Tim took another sip of coffee. 

“I’ll do it,” he said. 

***

**Apartment Complex, Mid-City Gotham**

Jeno slipped on his under-arm protector. Then his chest protector. The plastic probably wouldn’t do much good if he was getting shot at, but it would hopefully stop a knife. Holding his nighttime wire in his weapon hand, he put on his jacket. Knickers, jacket, glove, socks. All were black. Rather than the mesh mask he would wear for competition, Jeno tied a mask over his eyes, and topped it off with a wide brimmed hat. He plugged in his battery pack and his sword.

“You ready to go, Sabre?” Jaemin said over the miniature radio in his ear.

“Of course, Z.” Sabre smirked under his mask. He headed for the window.

***

**Penthouse Apartment, Uptown Gotham**

Tim Drake was hunched over his computer system, coffee untouched. Stalking Jeno Lee’s social media revealed that he was a student at Gotham High -- a junior. He had recently earned his A rating in sabre fencing. He had a friend on the robotics team, named Jaemin Na. There was a photo, taken in Jeno’s apartment. It was in an area he recognized. 

With that, Tim Drake closed his laptop, pulled on his mask, and Robin headed out to investigate.

***

**Apartment Complex, Mid-City Gotham**

Renjun was painting on the balcony when he saw him. Climbing out of his neighbor’s window was a figure in black. The figure’s sword sparked as it bounced off the steel railing of the balcony. 

He’d heard some stories around school. Stories about a black-clad vigilante who carried a sword and ran from the Bats. He tried to draw the man his classmates were calling Zorro once, but something told him that the man wasn’t quite that good. The heaviness of his landing on the next balcony down confirmed that. Shrugging to himself, Renjun returned to his painting. What the vigilantes of Gotham did really wasn’t any of his business.

***

**Unnamed Rooftop, Mid City Gotham**

It had been a long while since Robin had been on a roof in this part of the city. And here he was, staking out an apartment. He suppressed a shiver. Mid City, halfway between Uptown and the Bowery, was unsettling, especially if you liked clear-cut lines. Robin had stopped seeing things in as much black and white as he had before Jason came back, but there was still the lingering discomfort when the black and white of his home began to bleed together. It made it harder to know what to expect. Harder to plan around. Anything could happen in Mid City. Anything, including the development of a new vigilante.

Robin decided to make himself comfortable on the rooftop. If he had missed the vigilante leaving, he would see him coming back. Or he would not see him at all, and there would be more days of spine-tingling observation. So Robin sipped his coffee and waited.

***

**Alleyway, The Bowery, Gotham**

“Z, I have a feeling,” Sabre said, hiding in the shadows.

“You always have a feeling, Sabre,” Z complained.

“Yeah, but tonight you haven’t alerted me to any Bats.” Sabre pushed back into the shadows. There was shouting at the end of the alley.

“Your feeling tell you anything about that?” Z snarked. 

In front of Sabre was Black Mask’s most trusted dealer, dragging a girl with him. He could hear Z clacking over the coms. He had to… he had to do something. Maybe he could use the shadows to sneak behind….

“Hey you!” Sabre jumped about a foot in the air. Hanging from the fire escape above the alley was Red Hood. “I got a bone to pick with you.”

Sabre shrank further into the shadows. _I gotta get out of here!_ He was half convinced Hood was talking to him. 

“Yeah? What if I don’t wanna?” The dealer shouted back.

“Then I guess you don’t want your kneecaps.”

When Hood fired the first shot, Sabre ran.

“Hey, wait! Kid…”

***

**Lee Family Apartment: Mid City Gotham**

There was a glint on the street below. That wouldn’t have been odd in itself. In fact, Robin didn’t notice it until the glint started moving up the side of the building. Once he did though, he couldn’t pull his eyes away. There, climbing clumsily up the side of the building, was a black form, person shaped. And what should he be carrying, but a fencing sabre. 

_Cass didn’t mention the hat. Is this guy trying to be Zorro or something?_

Robin lurched forward when the form slipped on the wall. From everything they’d seen so far, the guy was well intentioned enough. He was just… putting himself in unnecessary danger. Robin felt for him, he really did, but at least he had Batman training before he went out fighting crime. This kid was just a fencer, at least, they thought.

Sure enough, the figure entered an apartment on the fifth floor -- exactly the right elevation to get the photo Robin had found earlier. The sabre sparked when it bumped against the steel railing. _That’s unexpected._ And once he was inside, the hat and mask came off. Robin snapped a picture. He’d have to run it through the facial recognition scanner. Through the lenses in his mask though, it looked like this Zorro was a match to Jeno Lee. 


	15. Why Do We Fall, Master Park?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boredom and curiosity really get people in trouble sometimes.

**Wayne Manor**

It really was amazing how quickly Chenle Zhong had managed to worm his way into Jisung’s life. Sure, they started out as school friends, but not long after the start of Danseur, Chenle had started walking home with Jisung.

“They say safety in numbers, right?” He asked the first time he proposed the idea to Jisung. In the end, that was the argument that won over the rest of the family.

A few weeks later, and Chenle was practically living at the manor. And he wanted to go further.

“Chenle, you really don’t want to go into the city. It’s not safe,” Jisung said over his homework. It was Friday night, but Bruce required them to do their homework always before anything fun. In this case, Chenle’s idea of fun was to go for a visit to Gotham.

“If Gotham is not safe, why would my parents have sent me here?” Chenle argued. 

“Gotham Academy has security measures to protect us. You don’t get that down on the city streets. You could get mugged, or kidnapped, or swept up in one of the super-terrorist plots!” Jisung fought the urge to stand. Chenle didn’t need to be intimidated. He needed to understand just how nuts Gotham really was. 

Chenle was giving him a blank look. “What is a _super-terrorist?”_

Jisung sighed. “I made up that one. Not that really dangerous people don’t exist here. I just don’t know what else to call someone like Poison Ivy, or Two Face, or the Joker.”

“My parents said they did not exist.” Chenle looked like his whole world had been shattered.

“To be fair, your parents also shipped you halfway across the planet because you like folk music. I don’t think they know what they’re talking about.” Jisung winced after he said that. Chenle looked like he was ready to cry.

“Hey, I think we need a break, huh?” Jisung continued. Anything to keep Chenle from crying. 

“What do you want to do?” Chenle asked. He sniffed.

Jisung thought for a moment. “Maybe we should go into the city. Not on my home turf, obviously. Two rich kids in the Bowery? Bad idea. Uptown though, near Wayne Tower should be ok.” He was mostly muttering to himself, but Chenle perked up at the prospect. 

“We’re going to need money to do this though,” Jisung said. “I’ll bet Bruce stashes his card somewhere in here. Just gotta find it.”

Homework long forgotten, the boys tore apart the study searching for Bruce’s credit card. They went through everything, all the drawers in the desk pawed through, all the couch cushions removed and tossed haphazardly across the room. Books stacked randomly on the floor after being flipped through. 

Jisung was ready to give up when he tripped over a cushion and went careening into a bust on a side table. Both boys were shocked when, rather than falling off the table and crashing to bits, the top of the bust hinged off to reveal an object emitting bright blue light. At least, Jisung assumed Chenle was also shocked. His mouth was hanging open almost comically.

“There is a fingerprint scanner inside of your statue,” Chenle said after a minute. He was peering into the hole in the bust. 

“That’s great Chenle. I could use a little help up though.” Jisung was sprawled on the floor. There was at least one book digging into his back, and he really wasn’t in the mood to discover that his adopted father was a maniac.

Chenle, meanwhile, made no moves to help Jisung up. “To what does it go?” 

Jisung humphed and got himself up. “Nowhere good probably. What normal person has a fingerprint scanner hidden in their study?” He started to put the room back together. 

“A little help…” Jisung started, but Chenle wasn’t listening. He was grinding his pencil to dust. “Uh… what are you doing?”

“I need graphite powder, a makeup brush, and some tape,” Chenle said. There was a glimmer in his eye. Jisung didn’t think he’d ever seen his friend this mischievous. 

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I am going to lift a print off the scanner so that we can get in. Do you have any makeup brushes?” Chenle didn’t look at him, still intently grinding the pencil. Clearly, this was going to happen with or without Jisung. 

“I don’t… wait! I think Tim has one actually. I’ll go grab it.” And so Jisung did, soon returning with a big, fluffy brush. “I think it has blush on it though. Is that ok?”

“Yeah, sure. And tape?” Chenle took the brush and dipped it in his powdered pencil.

Jisung grabbed a piece from the dispenser on the desk. By the time he got back to the scanner, Chenle had dusted it for fingerprints, and sure enough, there was one right in the center of the glass. 

Chenle took the tape, using it to lift the graphite print off the scanner. He then wiped the scanner down with a tissue and pressed the print back down. Jisung jumped when part of the bookshelf slid away to reveal a fireman’s pole.

“Where did you learn to do that, anyway?” Jisung asked, agape.

“I watch a lot of CSI. They always dust for prints.” He said it like it was all one term, “dust-for-prints.”

Both boys edged over to the pole. “After y-ahhh!” Jisung didn’t even try to finish his sentence as he fell down the shaft.


	16. To Pick Ourselves Back Up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several discoveries are made, both internal and external.

**Somewhere Under Wayne Manor**

Jisung landed at the bottom of the shaft on his back. He would have sighed in relief at the shortness of it, if the landing hadn’t knocked the wind out of him. Instead, he lay on his back and gasped. 

“Are you OK?” Chenle called down. Jisung could see him peeking over the edge of the shaft.

Jisung gave him a thumbs up. He was still having a hard time breathing, but he’d be back on his feet soon.

Chenle slid down the pole to meet him as Jisung sat up. The room at the base of the pole was small, brickwork covering the walls and floor. He couldn’t see Chenle’s face. The only light came from the hole in the wall above them. There didn’t seem to be a way out.

Part of Jisung was convinced he could climb back up the fireman’s pole and get out. That part died as soon as the opening in the wall above slid shut and the box they were in was thrown into darkness. Jisung nearly jumped out of his skin when Chenle found him in the dark.

“Well now we’re both stuck,” Jisung said. 

Before Chenle could reply, the space lit up. Jisung squinted at the brick illuminating the room. 

“There is no exit,” Chenle commented. 

“You’re not worried about that?” Jisung squeaked.

“I think there is a puzzle to get out. There was a puzzle to get in.” Chenle spoke like that was the only thing that made sense. 

“That wasn’t a puzzle Chenle. That was an accident.” Jisung was thinking though. There had to be a way out if there was a way in. It didn’t make sense for a fingerprint scanner to lead to a dead end. What would be the point? 

Something was telling him to touch the light. “Great,” he muttered, “I’m turning into a moth.”

“You are not a moth. Why do you think you are turning into a moth?” Chenle was beside him as he approached the brick. 

“I’m gonna touch the light.” And that is precisely what he did.

The moment he touched the light, another brick lit up, this one on the floor. Jisung stepped on it. Again, another brick light up, this time on the wall beside him, low. 

“Use your foot on that one,” Jisung muttered.

“What are you doing?” Chenle asked. 

“I think… it’s like, I have to touch all the lights at the same time. Almost like Twister.” He put his foot on the untouched light.

This time, the light was across the room. “Hey, think you can reach that one?” he asked. 

Chenle walked across the room and touched the light with his hand. As he did so, the first light went out, and one behind Jisung’s planted foot came on. 

“Jisung, what are you --” Chenle practically stopped breathing when he saw Jisung’s position. 

Jisung was just glad he was a dancer. If he didn’t have that trained flexibility and balance, he never would have been able to reach around his own planted leg to touch the light. 

The boys worked together for a while, turning the lights on and off, trying to get out. There was no sense of time as they were doing it. Jisung found himself twisting up in knots to touch all the right bricks. Twister indeed.

Then, with Chenle stuck in plank position and Jisung squatting with his hands on the wall behind him, a section of that wall opened. Jisung tumbled through the opening, followed soon by Chenle running and tripping over Jisung’s feet. 

Jisung looked up. “Dick?” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

***

They were in a cave. Chenle was confused though. Normally, caves didn’t have cars and motorcycles and large computer arrays. They certainly weren’t supposed to contain Jisung’s older-brother-who-lives-in-Bludhaven. Wait… they hadn’t traveled to Bludhaven, had they? Apparently Gotham was scary enough. 

“Dick?” Jisung groaned from underneath him. Chenle scrambled up. Squishing Jisung was probably not good. “What’re you doing here?”

“How… how did you two get down here?” Now, Chenle knew his English still needed work sometimes, but he was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to answer a question with another question in any language. 

As Chenle considered Dick’s dodge, he took a good look at what he was wearing. The black body-suit with the blue stripe was familiar for some reason. He knew Dick used to be an acrobat, but the suit was too lumpy to be his costume for that. Not to mention the handles sticking over his shoulders. Where had he seen it though?

“We… Chenle… there was a fingerprint scanner in the study. And… and a room full of light up bricks that I t --”

“Twisted yourself into a pretzel to get out of,” Dick finished. 

Jisung didn’t say anything in response. He was still lying on the ground, staring up at Dick. Chenle scrunched his face up. If only he could… no way. Dick couldn’t be. But it made so much sense now.

“You are Nightwing?” Chenle asked. 

Dick’s head snapped up. He laughed nervously. “Heh… um… no? I’m dressed up for a costume party?” Then why was he in a cave under the manor?

“Hey Dick, who’re you talking to?” Out of a hidden alcove came none other than Robin.

Jisung gaped for a moment. Then he let out a squeak. 

“Tim?”


	17. Dear Lord -- Please Don’t Let Me Fuck Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is having a bad day. Kids in the batcave might be the icing on the cake.

**Rooftop, Lower Wards of Gotham City**

Jason Todd was having a day. It started with him waking up to Bizarro trying to cook. Once that disaster was over, it continued with the Replacement’s report that yeah, the Zorro vigilante was in fact Jeno Lee. That one was made _so much better_ when Tim dropped the tidbit that there was probably another person involved. Jeno probably didn’t have the skills to turn his own sabre into a tazer, but one of his friends on the Gotham High robotics team did. Also, these kids were only a year younger than Tim, not that that made anything different. 

Now, Jason was getting a call over the coms from Oracle. In the middle of his patrol route. 

“Hood.” She said, tone dead thanks to the voice modulation software she installed on her com. 

“What. I’m kinda busy Oracle. Can’t it wait?” He was, in fact, actually busy with something. A drug bust, actually.

“No. Kids in the Batcave. Nightwing and Robin compromised. Family meeting.”

_Oh. I guess the new kid finally found out. _

“You sure I can’t wait until after this drug bust?” Jason whined. He did not have the patience to deal with a snotty teenager today. 

“I’m sure Hood.”

It hit him like Artemis’ ax. She hadn’t said a kid. She had said kids. 

“Who the hell else could have gotten in?” he muttered.

“Newbie’s friend from school.” He hadn’t actually wanted an answer to that.

“Fuck,” he swore. “Fine. I’m on my way.” 

The dealer below could have sworn he heard someone on the roof. When he looked, they were gone.

***

** Batcave**

Jason was still getting his footing in the Batcave. He’d only recently gotten back on good terms with Bruce, and he wasn’t sure how long that was going to last. Based on the look on his face when Jason walked in though, he wouldn’t be the target of Bruce’s ire for a while yet. 

“So Newbie found the cave?” Jason asked. The whole family was sitting around a conference table in the middle of the cave. He didn’t see the kid anywhere. Or his friend.

“Newbie fell into the cave with his best friend, and both saw Dick in the suit without his mask,” Tim corrected. 

Oh. That wasn’t good. “So you guys are all compromised.”

Bruce sighed. “He shouldn’t have been able to get in at all. But really, Jisung isn’t the problem. He was going to figure it out eventually anyway.”

“Then who --” That’s when he saw them. Jisung was sitting next to Cass in the shadows, and beside them was another kid. Asian. Slight build. Wide eyes with no fear.

“Apparently Chenle here figured out how to Macgyver his way through the fingerprint scanner in the study. And Jisung is at least as flexible as I am.” Dick almost sounded proud of them. Nervous, but proud. 

Before Jason could ask anymore questions, the kid -- Chenle -- stood up. Jisung was clearly tense, but this Chenle, he had no fear as he approached Jason. Jason hadn’t even taken the hood off yet. 

“Hi! I am Chenle Zhong. Who are you?” He asked, sticking his hand out. 

“Uh… Red Hood.” Jason did not put out his hand. “Ya’know, people are usually scared of me.”

“I have not heard of… Red Hood. Are you also famous?” Chenle looked genuinely confused. 

The more he talked to this kid, the more Jason was picking up on a familiar accent. “Not in a good way, kid. You… you wouldn’t happen to be from China, would you?” 

“I am from Shanghai,” he said. It was altogether too bright for the Batcave.

“Chenle, please come back. I don’t know why he’s here.” Jisung was definitely more coherent this time. Jason could hear his fear. Either he hadn’t figured out who was under the hood yet, or he didn’t care. Jason was willing to bet on the former. 

Jason took off the hood and his mask then. If the rest of the family had already been exposed, it was only a matter of time before he was too. 

“I should probably introduce myself properly then,” Jason said, setting the hood on the table. “I’m Jason.”


	18. I Volunteer As Tribute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is convinced that everyone else has gone insane. Yes, even Jisung.

**The Batcave**

“I should probably introduce myself properly then,” Jason said, setting the hood on the table. “I’m Jason.” 

Jason? But Chenle’s classmates had said Jason disappeared. He hadn’t asked Jisung about it, but then, why would Jisung have known? 

“Where were you?” Chenle hadn’t meant to actually say that out loud. At some point, Jisung had taken hold of his wrist. With the comment, that grip tightened. Jason didn’t look like he was going to attack Chenle though.

“What do you mean _where was I?_” To Chenle it seemed like he wanted to smile but was holding back. Everyone else around them was so tense though…

“My classmates said you disappeared. Where did you go?”

Everyone jumped when Jason hit the table. Jason was laughing though. Chenle scratched his head with his free hand. Jisung’s family being a group of superheroes that his parents didn’t believe in was confusing enough. The mixed reactions to his questions were nearly dizzying.

“Please don’t make him Robin,” Jason said between chuckles. “He’s too innocent for this.” 

Too innocent? What did he mean?

Before Chenle could ask, Jason continued. “I was dead. Technically I still am, legally speaking.” 

Oh. That wasn’t good. 

From behind him, Jisung asked, “What do you mean, dead? You seem pretty alive.” Jisung’s tone was snippy, but his grip was crushing Chenle’s wrist. This was confusing and unsettling enough for Chenle; he could only imagine what pain Jisung was going through, being related to these people.

“You really don’t want the gory details kid. In fact, if it was up to me, you’d both be staying far away from all this.” Jason gestured widely to the cave. 

After a moment, he sighed. “Alright, you really wanna know?” 

Chenle found himself nodding, even knowing the question wasn’t for him. Jisung’s grip relaxed a bit. Maybe Jason wasn’t as scary as Jisung seemed to think.

“I used to be Robin. That is, until I died.”

***

Jason hadn’t been Robin for all that long before Bruce decided he took too many chances. He tried to bench Jason, teach him some humility. Instead, Jason ended up going off on his own. Y’see, he had recently discovered that the woman who raised him wasn’t actually his mom. Well, not biologically anyway. His real mom was potentially still alive somewhere, so he put the detective skills Bruce taught him to use and tried to track her down.

Long story short, Jason found her, tried to rescue her from the Joker, and got himself caught. He beat Jason within an inch of his life with a crowbar, in front of his birth mother. Jason couldn’t blame her for watching; she was tied up after all. Then, with Jason down for the count and her tied to a support beam, the Joker set a bomb. Somehow Jason was able to pick himself up enough to untie his mom and almost get both of them out. Heh… maybe being Robin did give him magic after all. Not enough though. Both Jason and his mother died in the explosion.

***

Chenle was staring at him, wide eyed. His hands were shaking. Before even he realized what he was doing, Chenle had extricated himself from Jisung’s hold and buried his face in Jason’s chest. 

“Now you shoot people,” Jisung said. This wasn’t deadpan, like when Chenle was being naive. This wasn’t the sarcasm that laced his conversations with teachers or Mr. Wayne. There was nothing. Chenle fought the urge to shiver.

“Well, recently only in the knees and shoulders.” Jason shrugged. “I haven’t killed anyone in almost a year.”

“You say that like it’s an accomplishment,” Tim snarked. 

Chenle let go of Jason. “I want to help,” he said. 

“Uh… No. I’m not in the business of recruiting kids. Especially not to shoot people.” 

“No no, I want to help children like you not die.”

***

_That’s why I want to restart the Teen Titans!_ Tim thought. _If they get taken on though, what’s going to happen to me? There’s never been more than one Robin at a time._

While Tim was lost in thought, the argument had continued in front of him. 

“I swore after the Replacement, there weren’t going to be any more regular kids involved in crime fighting. It’s too dangerous, and bad enough that a lot of meta-kids don’t have a choice.” Jason was clearly holding back his shouting. 

Well, this was as good a place as any to cut in. “I think they should at least get training.”

Jason rounded on him. “You _agreed_ with me before. No more kid vigilantes.”

“Yeah, that was before Jisung got kidnapped, and before they found the cave. And… well, I’ve got a project in the works but it’s going to take me away from Gotham a bunch, and Batman needs a Robin.” Tim couldn’t look Jason in the eye. He never thought he’d find himself breaking a promise to Jason Todd, his Robin. 

He never thought he’d be considering giving up Robin.

“No. Nonono. Tim, you can’t be thinking --”

“Me being Robin was supposed to be a temporary arrangement anyway.”

“Yeah? Who was going to be Robin after you, huh?” Jason was leaning into his space now. Tim was probably the only teenager he treated like an adult. Sometimes, Tim wished he would treat him like a kid. Mostly times like these. Jason didn’t try to intimidate kids.

“Originally I only wanted to be Robin until Dick was ready to take the mantle back. It became clear pretty early on though that that wasn’t gonna happen.” Tim sat up straight when he realized he was leaning away from Jason. He didn’t let himself get intimidated by the businessmen at work. Why should he let himself get intimidated by his own adoptive brother?

“So what? Now you want to push it on one of these kids? Or maybe on the one we found the other day running around with a fencing sword?” Jason’s voice was straining, like he was on the verge of shouting.

“They’re going to be in more danger, now that they know. The least we can do is train them to protect themselves.”

Jason almost responded. Before he could, there was an “AAARRRRGG” from behind him. 

“Can you two quit talking about us like we’re not here?” Jisung said. 

Tim found himself leaning around Jason to stare at Jisung. He had hardly interacted with the kid since he joined the family. Only now was he noticing the kid’s build, less muscular than Dick’s but just as lithe. And the set of his shoulders was strong, determined. 

“I never wanted to get involved in this in the first place. I don’t think either of us can avoid it now though,” he continued. “I would also like the record to show that I’m heavily disturbed that the most reasonable member of this family is the one who is apparently a zombie.”

“I take offense to that,” Jason said. 

Jisung kept going, as though he didn’t hear Jason’s comment. “I also don’t think that Chenle should be Robin though. He’s never even been to Gotham proper. I’m the more fit one of us anyway.”

Wait… Jisung didn’t even want to be a Wayne. “Are you suggesting you want to take over Robin?” Tim asked.

“Want is a strong word. Of the two of us though, I’d rather it was me,” Jisung answered. “Chenle?”

“Yeah?” Chenle had deflated a bit as Jisung spoke.

“You think you could do more behind the scenes stuff? At least until you get to know Gotham a bit better.” There was a strained smile on Jisung’s face now.

“Oh yeah. Then I can be aerial support.” Chenle was grinning now too. What did he mean by that?

“Then your training starts tomorrow morning. Chenle, we’ll have a room made up for you,” Bruce interjected. Chenle and Jisung both jumped about a foot in the air. Tim was too used to the sudden appearances for that.

_I’m going to have to come up with a new name now, aren’t I… _Tim thought.


	19. You See Yangyang?  I See a Bad-Ass Mother Who Don’t Take No Crap Off of Nobody!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, Haechan isn't the only one with secrets.

**Lee Residence, Gotham City**

Now that he actually got to know him, Yangyang really liked Haechan. He was smart, he had an acerbic wit, and most importantly, he wasn’t afraid to be who he was inside. Part of Yangyang was a little jealous of him for that. He’d never been able to explain to his parents that when they brought him to the skating rink, he didn’t want to do hockey. 

See, the problem with hockey was that it was violent. The pace, Yangyang could keep up with, at least until he got checked so hard into the boards that his ears rang. He cried the first time he lost a tooth to a puck. And still, until he’d had a couple of serious concussions, his parents kept him at it. He hadn’t had the courage to tell them that what he really wanted to do was figure skating.

Then, he met Haechan. And Haechan was so unafraid of being himself. He wore glitter and sat with his twin sister at lunch, and he’d been a cheerleader at his last school. It was a little embarrassing to acknowledge, but Yangyang had attached himself to him after that first session of Danseur. Maybe some of that confidence would rub off on him.

That was how Yangyang and Haechan found themselves in a pair for a project, and subsequently how Yangyang found himself in Haechan’s apartment. 

“So you and Donghyuck dance together?” Mrs. Lee asked him over dinner. 

“Uh… yeah. We’re in Danseur together. Everyone in the group is really cool,” Yangyang said. The teachers had called Haechan “Donghyuck” too. Why did he go by Haechan then?

“What did you do before you joined the group?” Mr. Lee asked this time. 

“I… uh… I played hockey for Gotham Academy.” He didn’t expect to be interrogated at dinner. He was only supposed to be there to work on their project.

“That explains your adorable smile then,” Mrs. Lee commented.

Yangyang felt himself flush at that. He’d lost a couple of teeth in his second start for Gotham Academy, and was still uncomfortable with it. The team had only started him because he was fast anyway. Unfortunately, that meant he usually hit the boards harder too.

“Yeah… one too many concussions got me off the team. Had to find something else to do with my time.” Yanyang hoped that would be the end of it.

“And you enjoy it?” Mrs. Lee prodded. She scooped some potatoes onto Yangyang’s plate. Yangyang eyed them warily. It would be his third helping.

“I like it a lot. Maybe even better than hockey.” That was a lie. He liked it so much more than hockey. 

All the while, Haechan and his sister -- Minhee?-- were glowering at their plates. This probably wasn’t the first time a friend had been interrogated at the dinner table. If their looks were anything to go by, it probably wouldn’t be the last either. No one else took more potatoes.

***

Later that night, Haechan clacked away on his computer while Yangyang lied down on his bed, groaning occasionally. Haechan probably should have told him that he didn’t have to finish everything his mom put on his plate. By the time he’d even considered it though, it was too late.

“Should we include video in our presentation?” Haechan asked, turning from the computer.

Yangyang groaned. “Probably? I don’t think I can describe the motion of a quadruple axel in words.” 

Haechan turned back to the computer. “Why are we doing a project on the olympics again?” he asked as he typed.

“Our English teacher wants us to have a thorough background before we start the “Sports Narrative” unit,” Yangyang replied. “What skater are you going to use for the demonstration clip?” 

“I don’t know. The only figure skater I know is Kim Yuna, and we’re doing _men’s_ figure skating. I’m completely lost.” That wasn’t completely true, but Haechan doubted Yangyang wanted him to say _Katsuki Yuuri. _

Haechan jumped at Yangyang’s sudden appearance at his shoulder. Really, Yangyang was lucky he hadn’t been thrown across the room. 

“You don’t know _any_ male figure skaters?” Yangyang’s voice was breathy, some might say aghast. “You mean you’ve never seen Yuzuru Hanyu, or Nathan Chen’s routines?”

Before Haechan could respond, Yangyang was reaching over his shoulders to type into the Youtube search bar. “This is Yuzuru’s routine from the 2014 winter olympics. He was skating on an injured ankle and still executed nearly flawlessly,” he said.

Was… Yangyang passionate about figure skating? He seemed to idolize this guy, Yuzuru Hanyu. That would explain why his first choice after hockey was a dance crew.

“Yangyang, do you enjoy figure skating?” Haechan ventured to ask.

Yangyang froze, still leaning over Haechan’s shoulders. Haechan could feel his heart rate accelerate at the question. On the monitor, Yuzuru Hanyu smirked from the first thumbnail, like he knew Yangyang was caught.

“Yangyang?” He’d messed up, hadn’t he?

“I… I never wanted to do hockey,” Yangyang finally said. “The first time my parents took me to the rink was right after the olympics in Vancouver. I’d fallen in love with skating watching the men’s free program.”

Yangyang backed away from Haechan’s shoulders and continued, “I only started a specific skate program once I got here. I asked to do skating, and they enrolled me in hockey. They didn’t even ask me what I wanted to do.”

Haechan turned around to see a slumped Yangyang sitting in his sister’s desk chair. He could feel a fire under his skin at the thought of Yangyang’s misery. The kid deserved to be able to figure skate. 

“You know what I say, Yangyang?” Haechan seethed. The pencils rattled in their container. “I’m gonna get you back on the ice. Fuck what your parents want.”


	20. An Honest Man Has Nothing to Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It becomes clear that Jeno and Jaemin have bitten off more than they can chew.

**Mid-City Gotham**

“Burglary in progress Sabre. Two blocks down from home base,” Z said over the coms. 

“On it.” Sabre had a feeling, but he didn’t voice it this time. He’d gotten down to the ground and was skulking down an alley. At this point, he was pretty sure his “feelings” had more to do with the potential to get shot skulking down alleys and less to do with getting caught by the Bats. 

With Z’s guidance, Sabre made it to the apartment building. The burglary was happening on a higher floor, so Sabre sheathed his sword as well as he could in his knickers and started scaling the building. The ivy on the side of the building helped a bit, but Sabre’s grip on his hand holds was still white-knuckled. 

“What floor is it on, Z?” Sabre whispered into his com.

“Uh… the third floor. You’re next to the right set of windows,” Z answered. 

“Any more information?” Sabre panted. The third floor was still one more up, and Sabre was a fencer. He wasn’t exactly built for rock climbing. 

Z was silent for a moment. Then, “The burglar is only armed with a baseball bat. Unknown material.” 

“Does aluminum even conduct electricity?” Sabre grumbled.

Z laughed. “Dude, aluminum is more conductive than your sword.”

Sabre didn’t respond. He had climbed to the correct window, and clamored onto the balcony as quietly as possible. Hopefully the streetlights didn’t give him away. 

Inside was a tall figure, long hair hanging out of a baseball cap, back to the window. The bat was slung over their shoulder. It didn’t shine in the low light filtering through the window frame. Wood then. Not conductive at all. 

Sabre took a breath and entered, drawing his sword on the way. 

“Drop the sword, Zorro.” The figure didn’t turn around when they spoke. 

“Stop this. You’re breaking and entering. GCPD is on the way.” That was Z’s cue to call the police. Sabre really hoped he wouldn’t have to shock the person.

Sabre waited for a confirmation from Z before making his next move. Normally, confirmation came within five seconds. This time, five seconds passed. Then ten. Twenty. Approaching forty-five seconds, the burglar began to laugh. 

“You didn’t notice, did you kid? You can’t hear your little friend, can you? I should hope not.” The burglar was walking away now, toward the door, still laughing. “You never even thought to check for the blinking light.”

Blinking… still not confirmation from Z. Sabre was on his own. The burglar was jamming their signal. 

“You know,” the burglar continued, turning to face Sabre. “I set this trap for a little birdy. Guess I’ll just have to settle for a swashbuckler.”

Sabre turned to the side, settling into en garde. The less of him the burglar could target, the better. 

“The birds are way more fun, you know. They talk. The biggest birdy jokes. His puns are terrible, but I love him anyway. You though, you’re as silent as the Batman himself. Stony and cold. You dress like him too, all in black.” All the while, the burglar was advancing, bat dragging on the floor. 

“Just like him, you don’t even _smile_.” On the last word, the burglar lunged, swinging their bat around toward Sabre’s head. 

Sabre parried, blocking the bat on the non-weapon side of his body, and dragging it around to be behind him. It was easy, like doing it in a bout. The burglar was unskilled, falling over from the cross. But then, they tumbled and sprung up. Sabre only retreated just fast enough to avoid the downward strike. 

The burglar advanced into the light. Streetlamps illuminated poorly applied clown makeup and a green wig hanging down to her shoulders. Sabre was pretty sure the burglar was a girl now, probably his age. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but it wasn’t like she was on laughing gas. 

_Shit! She’s with the Jokerz._ Sabre was going to have to knock her out fast. 

***

**Mid-City Gotham, Near the Central Business District**

Jaemin thought he might have an aneurysm. No, not literally. He was panicking pretty bad though. Wouldn’t you if your best friend walked into a trap on your instructions?

_I got him killed. I actually got my best friend killed,_ Jaemin thought. Why did they start doing this anyway? Jeno could have just gone to the olympics. Jaemin would have become a great engineer. Instead, Jeno was going to be dead by baseball bat and Jaemin was going to be wracked with guilt for the rest of his life. 

Even so, Jaemin couldn’t turn away from the monitor showing the CCTV feed of the apartment window. Jeno was in trouble. The Joker acolyte had no pattern to her fighting. No particular style. She would swing wildly and tumble across the floor. Jeno couldn’t get a hit in. 

Just before the acolyte landed a hit to Jeno’s head, a dark shape dropped in front of the window, punctuated by a flash of yellow. Robin had arrived.

***

**Mid-City Gotham: Small Apartment Near “Home-Base”**

Sabre really should wear a helmet on these night time excursions. Here he was, lying on the floor, reeling after being hit in the head by a baseball bat. He looked up and shook his head. It looked like Robin was standing in the window frame, but that couldn’t be. Z would have told him… except that they still were out of contact. 

“Stay where you are,” Robin said, as Sabre started to get up. Normally, Sabre wouldn’t have listened, but trying to get up was making his head swim, so he flopped back onto the floor. 

The girl was laughing maniacally somewhere behind him. Or maybe next to him. She hit really hard for someone who was tripping over herself. 

“Look, sword boy! I caught a little birdy too!” She giggled. 

“You haven’t caught anyone yet.” There was something shiny next to Robin when he moved. 

Sabre laid flat on the ground, giving Robin better access. It was getting harder to focus. Maybe it was a good thing Z couldn’t hear him. 

“Sabre? Sabre, you read me?” Oh. Nevermind.

“Z? S’that you?” Did he slur that bad the last time he got hit in the head? Sabre didn’t think so. He might have been wrong though.

“Sabre, I need you to stay awake. Just stay conscious, alright?” 

“Yeah… D’you call Rabin? He’s here.” 

“Actually, Oracle called me. And you’re coming back with me.” That wasn’t Z…

***

**Mid City Gotham, Near the Central Business District**

Jaemin wrung his hands as he watched Jeno get whisked away by Robin. He should never have directed Jeno to that building. He should have taken a closer look at the CCTV feed. Shoulda, coulda, woulda. It was too late. Jeno was caught, and in trouble. Jaemin considered just turning off his set up, cutting off the communication line. That way only one of them would be caught. 

He couldn’t do that to his friend though. 

Jaemin Na, engineer extraordinaire, kept his system on. If the Bats had Jeno, they would have him too.


	21. So I Am Trying Hard Not to Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family is expanding again, even if they don't know it yet.

**Batcave**

Jisung was still having a hard time believing that this was happening. Being adopted by Bruce really threw a wrench in all of his plans. Well… maybe he’d still be able to join a crew in New York or Los Angeles, but for now, he was in the Batcave, training to be Robin. Chenle was there too, working remotely with Oracle. He still hadn’t decided on a name yet.

For the meantime, Jisung was training with Bruce… er… Batman. Bruce? What were you supposed to call him in the Cave, but out of the mask? Jisung still didn’t know what the etiquette was. All thoughts of vigilante etiquette went out of his head though, as he nearly got hit in the face with a punch from Bru-Batman.

“You need to focus, Jisung. Losing concentration in the field could leave you seriously injured, or worse.” He didn’t need to tell Jisung what worse was. Jason was the undead proof of that.

“Yes s-” The rest of the sir was drowned out by the grinding of the outside entrance to the cave opening, followed by the roar of a motorcycle. Robin was home.

Robin wasn’t alone. As he came around the bend, one hand on the handlebars, his other hand held on a figure in black. The Robin-cycle screeched as he stopped. With them closer, Jisung could see the blood dripping down the passenger’s face. 

“He needs help. Head trauma, lost consciousness on the way here. May have previous head injuries,” Robin announced as he dismounted, carefully taking the passenger into his arms. 

Bru-Batman went full Batman then. “Get him to the emergency station. In the future, Robin, it would behoove you not to bring strangers into the Cave.”

“He’s the one from Black Bat’s report. The fencer.” Robin countered, carrying the boy to the emergency medical station. “He’s got a partner too. We should probably pick him up.”

This must have been the one Jason was referring to, the night he and Tim got in an argument about teenage vigilantes. The kid with the sword. Jisung was tempted to follow, but something told him that would be dangerous. Robin was tending to the kid until Alfred arrived. He didn’t need the extra pressure. And Batman was talking to Oracle via Chenle. Jisung elected to take the opportunity to grab some water. 

***

“You need me to use this… thingy… to track his friend?” Chenle asked. It was hard to remember the words for things, especially when Batman was hovering over his shoulder.

“Yes, I want you to use his communicator.” Chenle was glad. Even though he had the cowl on, Batman was being gentle with him. 

“I will do my best,” Chenle said with a nod, sitting up straighter.

“Good. When you find a location, let Nightwing know.” Batman turned to leave.

Chenle paused for a moment. “But is Nightwing not in Bludhaven? Would Red Hood not be the better choice?” 

“I want him brought in alive and healthy, Chenle. Not scared half to death and bleeding out.”

“But Hood would not --” Chenle started. Before he could finish, Batman was gone.

***

**Mid-City Gotham: Above Jaemin Na’s Apartment**

Nightwing rappelled down the side of the building, taking care to avoid places where he could break the facade. Or his ankle. Rolling that on scrollwork would be bad too. The chick had said that Kid-Zorro’s partner was in one of the top-floor apartments. 

Sure enough, Nightwing saw the kid Robin had been researching -- Jaemin Na -- hanging upside-down off his bed. His computer showed a feed of another apartment in Mid-City. He waved at Nightwing, who slid down the window to enter.

“You’re not going to fight me?” he asked, righting himself. 

Jaemin shook his head. “Nah… I’m giving myself up. Would have turned myself in if I knew where to go.”

“Why’s that?” Nightwing was not expecting this amount of compliance.

“Well,” Jaemin said as he got up, “One, my parents are in the other room and would come running at the noise probably. They don’t know I’ve been doing this. Two, you caught Sabre already. I couldn’t leave him out to dry.”

So there was loyalty there. Maybe more than just loyalty. Nightwing gave Jaemin a hand getting up. 

“I’m going to need you to go outside on your own, if your parents are home,” Nightwing said.

“Yeah… can’t exactly leave via window, huh?” Jaemin winked. 

_So he’s a flirt. He’ll fit right in._

***

**Batcave**

The first thing that Jeno noticed when he woke up was the cold. The second was the damp. Jeno had never really considered whether he believed in Hell or not, but he supposed, being underground, it could be cold and damp. 

When he opened his eyes though, Jeno realized that he was not, in fact, in Hell. Or Heaven. Or any other afterlife. He was, instead, in a cave. And sitting next to him was the Batman.

“Good. You’re awake,” he said. His voice was gravely, but not as terrifying as the stories said. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeno replied automatically. He slapped a hand over his own mouth. 

“We can talk about that later. For now, be happy you didn’t die from that head wound.” The Batman was right, of course. He should be happy that he wasn’t dead, not miserable at the fact that he had disappointed the city’s hero.

The Batman continued, “Your partner should be on his way. Then, we’ll sit down and have a chat, just the three of us.”

Jeno couldn’t help but think that the other Bats should be involved. He didn’t want them to be. Red Hood was scary, and Nightwing was inhumanly bendy (it freaked him out a bit), but he felt like he deserved it. He was a disappointment to them all, they should all get to chew him out. He lay back on the bed.

They sat in silence, punctuated by the occasional drip from the ceiling of the cave. There was something unnerving about it. The silence. The cowl. The drip... drip... drip. 

“Um…. so how’s your night?” Jeno cringed as soon as it left his mouth. Batman fought crime. His night was probably terrible.

Before Jeno could spiral down into complete self-loathing, Batman actually responded. 

“It’s been going pretty well actually.” That was unexpected.

Batman continued, “yours?”

Oh… so the Batman was just as awkward as Jeno. Ok. Cool.

“It could be better. Y’know, getting hit in the head kinda sucks, but I’m here talking to my idol, who I probably disappointed, so that’s kinda cool.” Jeno’s self control was officially gone.

Batman hummed. Before the conversation could go anywhere else, a voice Jeno had hoped he wouldn’t hear shouted from behind him.

“Jeno!” It was Jaemin. 

Jeno turned to look at him. “They got you too, huh?”

“Actually,” Nightwing said, materializing behind Jaemin, “he turned himself in.”

Jaemin wouldn’t look at him then. He dug at the floor of the cave with his toes. “I couldn’t let you get caught alone. I didn’t even know if you were alive.”

“Well, I’m alive, and now I’m an even bigger disappointment.” Jeno’s tone was flat. Softer, he added, “I couldn’t even protect my best friend.”

“Hey, you did good for a kid with no training. Better than I did my first outing.” Nightwing was trying to reassure him. _Nightwing_ was trying to reassure him. No, no, Jeno couldn’t geek out now. 

“Speaking of training,” Nightwing continued with a smirk.

“I recognize that you are not going to stop on your own.” Jeno just about jumped out of his skin. He had forgotten that _Batman_ was behind him. “I also do not have the resources to give you a constant watcher. As such, rather than spending your nights on rooftops, you will come here for training. You will return to the streets when, and only when, I deem you ready.”

“You… want to train me?” Jeno squeaked. This was an unexpected development. 

“No, Jeno, I _will_ train you. Both of you.”

It was a good thing Nightwing was standing behind Jaemin. He looked about ready to fall over. The only thing keeping him up was Nightwing’s hand on his shoulder. 


	22. The Artist’s Job Is Not to Succumb to Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjun hates this city more than anything.

**Gotham Central High School**

Jeno and Jaemin were acting strange, or at least, stranger than usual. It was like they had lightning, barely restrained, under their skin. Neither could sit still, and while their fidgeting was different (Jeno’s tapping feet and fingers, and Jaemin’s constant seat readjustments), there was a certain elegance to both. If they weren’t in the middle of class, Renjun would have pulled out his sketchbook to draw them. 

They were friends, Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun. Mostly Jeno and Jaemin though. They’d known each other basically since birth, if Renjun understood. Renjun’s family had moved to Gotham his freshman year, commissioned by the city to restore the interiors of several historic buildings. Jeno’s family had helped them move in, and then their son had adopted Renjun at the lunch table. The rest was history.

Renjun sketched Jeno absently on his math notes. Maybe he could get a full sketch done in art class today. Both of them, sitting next to each other. Not in a classroom though. 

The bell rang, knocking Renjun out of his reverie. What had started out as a doodle had become a full on sketch. He’d have to get the notes from someone.

As he walked to his next class, Renjun lost himself in his thoughts again. Jeno and Jaemin had always been a little odd. They adopted the new kid at lunch. Jaemin created brilliant machines for the school robotics team, even though he had no idea how to use their CAD program. Jeno could be an Olympic fencer, if he would just get a real coach. For a few months, though, they’d been extra weird. They were fidgety, and jumped easily. Jeno especially was shifty, but Renjun knew he was a terrible liar. The question was, what were they hiding? What could have gotten so big they moved like a supernova was waiting to burst forth? 

Part of Renjun was curious. Most of him though, wanted nothing to do with it. He wanted to mind his own business, do his art, and move away from this city that didn’t know the definition of the word “rules.” Yeah, Jeno and Jaemin were nice, but Gotham herself had it out for her citizens. She chewed people up and spat them back out again, often with parts missing. How else would you end up with figures like the Batman, or Two Face? Renjun shuddered. 

***

Later that day, Renjun was sketching the two of them again. Only, for some reason, Jaemin sat on a throne. Jeno knelt below him, wearing a wide brimmed hat and carrying a sabre that crackled with electricity. His pen flew across the page, outlining and crosshatching. Pen and ink wasn’t his favorite medium, but it seemed somehow more appropriate than his usual acrylic paints. He considered the drawing for a moment, then added two feathered wings behind Jaemin, as though sprouting from his back. 

*** 

Renjun didn’t see them after school. Lunch had been an awkward affair of sidelong glances and too loud chewing. None of them had said a word. Normally, they would wait for each other after their extracurriculars, but Renjun didn’t bother. It wasn’t worth waiting for a silent, awkward walk back to their apartment building. He should probably just leave them alone until they sorted out whatever had them on edge. 

As soon as he got home, Renjun sat down to try and draw the “Zorro” vigilante again. Instead, the man in the hat again became Jeno, his sabre sparking. That image just would not leave him alone.

***

Renjun sat alone at lunch the next day. Both Jeno and Jaemin were in a meeting in the principal’s office. They had been surprised at the call out of class. They’d been gone a long time. Renjun ate in silence.

***

After school, he waited for his friends. Surely they would walk back to their building with him, right? 

***

Renjun was drawing again, hasty scratches of pen on fine paper. He struggled not to cry. 

The meeting had been between Jeno, Jaemin, their parents, and Bruce Wayne. He wanted to give them scholarships to Gotham Academy. Renjun tried to be happy for them, even though it seemed both Jeno and Jaemin were upset with the decision to transfer. But now, Jeno could have his real fencing coach. He’d have a real shot at the Olympics. And Jaemin would have access to one of the best robotics labs outside of Wayne Enterprises itself. Who knew what he could invent in such a space.

Renjun was happy for them. Really, he was. Overwhelmed with happiness, one might even say. He just… he knew he was going to see them again. They all lived in the same area after all. The only things he cared about in this city were his parents and Jeno and Jaemin. He was going to miss them. 

He had drawn another portrait of them. This time though, they were outside, lying in a field of grass, looking up at the sky. All three of them. The sky was full of stars. The ink stars smudged as Renjun hunched over the notebook. 

Eventually, he fell asleep.


	23. What’s in a name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family provides an excellent distraction from shareholder problems. Well, for anyone who keeps less streams of thought simultaneously than Tim Drake.

**Wayne Enterprises**

The worst part of being a CEO, at least according to Timothy Drake-Wayne, was the meetings. Bruce would probably agree with him. Correction, Bruce would definitely agree with him. Meetings were the worst, unless they were with Lucius Fox and _only_ Lucius Fox. And yet, contrary to what he desired, Tim found himself doodling on his note pad in a meeting with shareholders. 

“Mr. Wayne, what are your thoughts on the matter?” 

“Huh?” Tim looked up from his notepad. In front of him was his coffee. Oh good.

The man from before repeated himself. “I was wondering what your thoughts were on Wayne Enterprise’s research and development division taking on contracts for the police.”

Oh. That wasn’t good. Not at all. “I was under the impression that we were redoubling our clean energy efforts. Was that not the case?” 

“There is no reason that we cannot take on contracts from police departments or government agencies in addition to the… clean energy project.” That was another shareholder, by the name of Garrett Grisham, who at his own company was known for being a major contractor with the militaries of several countries. 

“That depends on the contents of these contracts.” None of the other shareholders said a word. “I would be willing to design and manufacture safety equipment, and body armor. As I am sure you know, though, Wayne Enterprises as a very firm stance on weapons manufacturing, and has for several generations.”

Garrett leaned forward across the table. 

Tim would not be intimidated though. “You asked for my thoughts. Those are them. I’m not going to have this company be any more mixed up in the militarization of the police force than it already is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time for lunch.” 

And with that, Timothy Drake-Wayne picked up his coffee, turned on his heel, and left. 

***

_Ginsalli’s for lunch?_ Was the first notification on Tim’s phone when he escaped the office. It was from Cass. 

_Sure_, he replied. He’d have to let his secretary know. 

His phone binged again. Another text from Cass. _Bring Jisung?_

Tim sighed. The kid did have a half day of school, didn’t he. 

_Chenle too?_ He sent back.

_Yeah._ And then a moment later, _Please…_

***

**Ginsalli's: Uptown Gotham**

When Tim entered the restaurant, he was immediately tackled by his sister. This had the unfortunate result of sending him flying back into Jisung and Chenle, and all of them ending up in a heap on the floor. 

“Mr. Drake, I understand that you are rather well to do, but that does not give you license to block the entryway,” the host said, stooping over the pile.

“I promise I’ll move. Just… I’m a little stuck,” Tim wheezed. “Cass, I know you’re excited, but I need you to get off me so that I can get off Jisung and Chenle.”

Cass giggled as she stood. The boys unpiled themselves, and the host, no longer stooping, brought them to a table. 

Only Tim was properly dressed for a restaurant like Ginsalli’s. Most of the population of the restaurant was, like him, in business suits. His family, on the other hand, came casual. At least Chenle bothered to wear a blazer. The constant gaping at his surroundings ruined the effect though. Tim tried to forgive him for that. He realized that Chenle had still not been to Gotham proper before today. 

In fact, that’s where Tim started the conversation. 

“Chenle,” he said, “how are you liking Gotham so far?”

“She is a beautiful city. Much older than Shanghai, with more stone. Shanghai is mostly glass,” he answered. 

“We haven’t had any… run-ins yet,” Jisung added. “Not that you’d notice them, constantly looking up.”

“Gotham has pretty architecture,” Chenle argued. “I like it.”

“I’m sure you do, buddy.”

All the while, Cass was giggling behind her menu. Did she get them all here for lunch just to see them bicker? Tim could be working on putting the kaibosh to that weapons deal. Instead he was sitting at lunch with his siblings and a friend. Not even his friend.

While he thought, Jisung and Chenle had continued to argue.

“You wouldn’t even realize if there was a rogue attack while we were out,” Jisung said.

“I would. And you do not give your city enough credit. She is beautiful. A monument,” Chenle fired back.

“Hey hey,” Tim cut in, “we’re not here to argue. I’m pretty sure Cass had something she wanted us to talk about.”

Everyone at the table turned to Cass. She tore a roll in half and nodded. “Names,” she said.

Names? But… oh. She probably meant code names. So this was really about Tim and Chenle. Jisung would, of course, be Robin.

“I’m thinking of Red Robin.” He wasn’t really ready to get rid of the Robin title yet. He was still young. Much younger than Dick was when he turned the position over to Jason. Any way he could retain that for a little longer was ideal.

“Red Robin. I like it.” Chenle beamed. 

“Not too similar to Red Hood for comfort?” Jisung asked. It was hard to tell if he was being serious or snarky sometimes. Tim decided to assume he was being serious.

“Nah. He was my Robin anyway. Dick’s awesome and everything, but I used to follow Jason obsessively.”

Jisung looked taken aback. “You were a stalker?” 

“That’s one way of putting it,” Tim said. Cass was trying hard not to laugh. 

“Anyway,” he continued, “What about you, Chenle? Got any name ideas?”

Before Chenle could say anything, Jisung and Cass were in fits. Tim got the distinct impression that he was missing some vital information. 

“So,” Jisung heaved. “You know how Dick has his nicknames for all of us?”

Tim nodded. He didn’t realize Dick had a nickname for Chenle already, but he supposed that a codename based on an affectionate nickname had some good humor potential. 

“I like my nick-name,” Chenle defended. “He calls me Chick.”

“Baby Bird was taken,” Jisung explained when Tim snorted. Yeah, Baby Bird was taken. By Tim.

“We think he should be Chicken,” Jisung continued. “Like a grown up chick.”

Oh… oh dear. No, that wasn’t going to work. “That’s a horrible idea and you know it, Jisung,” Tim said. He tried to be stern. Somehow, it didn’t work as well without the mask.

Jisung snickered. Chenle wasn’t really reacting, beyond general confusion. He probably didn’t know that slang yet. Still, chickens were food birds. Tim would be offended by that, even without knowing what it meant when you called someone a chicken. There had to be a better option. Still with “chick” though, since Chenle seemed attached to that nickname. 

“What about Chickadee?” Tim said. It was the first bird that came to mind.

Chenle looked more confused. “What is a chick-a-dee?” 

“They’re small birds, built like finches more than robins. They’re scrappy fighters, most known for their call,” Tim explained.

“What do they sound like?” Alright this was good. Chenle seemed interested. 

Jisung seemed to be getting into it too. He said, “They sound like their name. _Chickadeedeedee._” 

The grin that split Chenle’s face at that was almost maniacal. “I want to be Chickadee,” he said. And then he laughed.

Tim considered that _Dolphin_ may have been a more appropriate nickname. Or maybe _Seagull._


	24. I Don’t Dance Unless I Hear Some Music.  I Won’t Be Intimidated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise pep rally causes chaos.

**Gotham Academy Gymnasium**

Jisung was about ready to tear his hair out. Most of Danseur was still learning the basics of street style dance, and strength building for their foundation, and somehow the student council thought it was a good idea to have them have a dance battle with the Dance Team at the first basketball pep rally of the year. The next week.

So now, here he was doing extra hours with Danseur, on top of his Robin training, and his homework. There were a couple of them that might have the strength for the fancier maneuvers, but trying to teach flips in under a week just wasn’t feasible. Teaching the group any choreography in that time might not be feasible. 

Unless… 

“Alright, switch sides. I want you to lunge with your left foot forward. You should feel the stretch in your left hamstring,” Jisung advised.

Unless he could get permission from Bruce (and also probably Alfred) to have the team up to the manor for practice. The Dance Team had a monopoly on the gym on the weekends. If they picked the song that practice and worked out the choreography in the next couple of days, and practiced at the manor over the weekend, they might have a chance of not making fools of themselves. 

“So… we need to talk about next week,” Jisung said, looking up from his stretch. 

“What’s happening next week?” That was Haechan. Jisung wasn’t sure what to think about Haechan. He seemed alright most of the time, but then he did things like fight seniors over his right to wear makeup. It was kind of intimidating, if he was being honest.

“The student council wants us to perform at the pep rally on Tuesday. I’m going to ask my guardian if we can practice at our house, but this is going to mean practice every day for at least a couple of hours for the next week.” Jisung decided it was probably better to be straight about it. 

“Are we ready for that kind of commitment?” Yangyang asked. He’d been getting better quicker than anyone else in the group. His tours (see chapter note 1) were especially good.

“I think so. If we choose our song today, choreograph it today and tomorrow, and put in the work the rest of the week we should be ok. I just need to make sure you all can actually come to my house to practice.” They should be able to, right? 

The group broke stretching for the day and went for water. Jisung took the opportunity to shoot a text to Bruce and Alfred.

_Hey, can I have the dance crew over this weekend? Only during the day of course. _

“Alright,” he said when he returned to the group, “If this is going to happen, we need music.”

“Are… you looking for suggestions?” a sophomore named Leah Thomkins asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah I am. I don’t think most of you would do well with the type of music I _usually_ dance to,” Jisung replied. It came out harsher than he’d intended, but yeah, dubstep tended to be kind of advanced.

“How about _Thunder Road_?” Chenle asked. 

Jisung sighed. “The Boss is great, Chenle, but I don’t think I can choreograph an urban dance to that.”

“I vote _Clint Eastwood_ by the Gorillaz.” That was Sarah Jones, side ponytail bobbing as she bounced.

“That could work. Do we have any other suggestions, before we make a decision?” Jisung asked.

“What about _Truth Hurts_?” Haechan suggested. 

“That Lizzo song?” Yangyang asked.

“Yeah,” Haechan said. “I feel like it gets our mission statement across.”

Jisung thought that might just be brilliant. “I should probably mention, we’re doing this as a battle against the Dance Team,” he added.

They took the vote, _Clint Eastwood_ versus _Truth Hurts_. Lizzo won by a slim margin, but really, Jisung already had ideas spiralling out of control in his head. They wanted to make a statement, and Haechan could stand on his hands.

On their next water break, Jisung checked his phone. There was a message from Bruce.

_Of course you can have your friends over. Just let Alfred know how many and any food restrictions. We wouldn’t want anyone to go hungry. _

Jisung smiled. This was going to be awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: A tour is a move where the dancer jumps and spins on an axis.


	25. Once Upon A December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As crunch time sets in, the dance team goes to practice at Wayne Manor and Haechan gets the distinct feeling that something's wrong. This is, of course, before he spends far more time than he would like upside-down.

**Wayne Manor**

Haechan was, in a word, intimidated. Standing there, in front of Wayne Manor of all places, was never something he anticipated happening. And yet, there he was. Turns out, when Jisung talked about his guardian, he meant _Bruce Wayne_. His dad’s sort of boss. And now he was at his dad’s sort of boss’ house. To dance.

It was a lot to take in.

Beside him, Yangyang seemed nonplussed. Almost like he regularly dealt with billionaires and their homes. Haechan’s dad had dropped them off at the gate, leaving them to walk up the mile long driveway. It wasn’t actually a mile long, but it may as well have been.

When they got to the door of the manor, the boys were greeted by a man that Haechan would describe as “very old.”

“Hello young sirs. My name is Alfred Pennyworth. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” the man — Alfred — said.

“Uh… we’re here to visit Jisung.” Haechan winced at his own lilt. He’d been hiding his accent as well as he could since starting at Gotham Academy, but the Dakotas never really left his speech.

“Ah yes, Master Jisung is waiting for you in the gymnasium.” Alfred held the door open wider to let them through.

Yangyang merrily followed Alfred further into the house. Haechan, however did not.

He was struck dumb by the grandeur of the house. The sweeping staircase and the grand crystal chandelier. He could hear the music in his head.

_Dancing Bears, Painted Wings  
Things I almost  
Remember  
And the song, someone sings  
Once Upon a December  
  
Someone holds me safe and warm  
Horses drift through a silver storm  
Figures dancing gracefully  
Across my memory  
_

The house almost seemed melancholic for all its opulence. And it was December.

Haechan took a moment to give his condolences to the house. He didn’t understand why, but it felt like it needed to be done. The loss was heavy in the air.

This way, young sir,” Alfred called from the stairs. Yangyang was up with him.

Haechan hurried along, shoes clicking on the marble tiles of the floor. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was very wrong here.

***

Once the rest of the crew had arrived, Haechan felt more comfortable. Something still kept him on edge throughout the meeting, but it was hard to stay worried about a house when you were concentrating on not falling over.

Jisung had told him to catch the wall.

It wasn’t that Haechan couldn’t do it. He could stand on his hands just fine. It was the indignity of the thing. Who would willingly twerk upside-down in front of an audience?

Apparently a lot of people. All the most athletic members of Danseur ended up on the wall. Granted, it was only for a short time — one or two eight counts — but it was the indignity of it. 

“Why are we twerking to this song?” Lizz Bowie asked. She was upside down on the mirror.

“It’s got enough bounce that you can really _whap_ to it,” Jisung replied, blocking more of the dancers into position. “Also, we’re doing this as a battle against the Dance Team, and some shock value may do us some good.”

What on earth did Jisung mean by _whap_? Was that dancer lingo, or something uniquely Jisung? Haechan decided it didn’t really matter. Especially not in comparison to all of the blood rushing to his head right then.

“Better question, can I get down now? There’s so much blood in my head I can’t think straight,” Haechan voiced his displeasure.

Jisung gestured for Haechan to come down. The rest of the “catch the wall” team followed suit. Everyone was red faced and panting. Catching the wall was hard work!

“Alright, water break. Five minutes, and then I want to do a full run through,” Jisung said.

“How about we do a lunch break instead?” a voice Haechan definitely recognized from somewhere said.

At the door was a boy, not much older than himself, and definitely shorter. His long black bangs hung in his face. He was playfully disheveled. There was a certain hardness about him though. You expected children, even older teenagers to have blunt edges, soft faces. This kid was all sharp. Like you could cut yourself on his being.

Haechan decided he wouldn’t mind being cut.

Jisung sighed, snapping Haechan out of his own head. “I guess you’re right. Everybody, this is Tim Drake-Wayne. One of my adoptive brothers.”

That’s where he’d heard the voice! His father often took work calls at home. This Tim’s voice was the voice on the other end of the line.

Maybe Haechan would mind being cut. This kid was his dad’s boss. Not his sort of boss, his actual boss.

Haechan moved with the rest of the group, heading down to the kitchen for lunch. Ahead of him, Tim Wayne walked with a grace he would dream of having himself.

_Stop looking at him._

His silhouette was pretty as well. Broad shoulders, thin waist, long arms and legs. Well, proportionally speaking, Tim was pretty short, in reality.

_Stop looking at him._

And when he turned back to make sure everyone was following, Haechan noticed the piercing blue eyes. And the upward quirk of his mouth, like he was smiling on just one side of his face.

_Stop. Looking. At. Him._

Before he knew it, they had arrived in the kitchen, a wonderful smell wafting towards them. Light, sweet, savory. Vegetable soup of some kind was on the menu.

While Haechan was distracted by the soup, he realized later, Tim had disappeared. He was gone. Like a ghost.

Or a memory.


	26. What's Up Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of our new Batman Family members have their first solo flight.

**Rooftop, Uptown Gotham**

Robin and Sabre both shook, standing on the side of a rooftop. Behind them, their mentor loomed. This was it. The first “solo” patrol. Of course, it wouldn’t actually be solo for either of them. They were to go together, and only in uptown Gotham. They were not to cross into Red Robin or Red Hood’s territory (which boxed them in). Nor were they to head back to the cave early. 

Things could happen in Uptown just as easily as anywhere else in the city. Batman would be lying in wait in case one of the more formidable criminals of the city made an appearance. There had been no reports of an Arkham escape, but really, you never knew. 

It was the first time Sabre had been out in weeks. His incident with the Joker-girl was still fresh in his mind. One might even say it was seared into his memory. 

Why couldn’t he have had memory loss from the head trauma? That would have made this much less terrifying.

Beside him, Robin was quaking. Poor kid had a fear of heights, and yet, here he was, trying to take up the mantle of one of the world’s best aerialists. Sabre couldn’t blame him for being scared. It was his first time having to grapple without the safety net of Nightwing or Red Robin or Batman. Neither of them was truly ready. That didn’t matter though. 

If they didn’t do this now, they never would.

On that though, Sabre steeled himself, drew his grappling gun, and fired at the building across the way. He was off for the night.

***

Why did he do this? Why did he agree to become Robin? He knew, as soon as he agreed to take the mantle that the reassurance Dick had offered him that day in the gym, that he’d never have to learn to fall from the trapeze, had become a lie. Part of him suspected that Dick had known it would eventually become a lie. 

Jason had said it when he arrived. _ “He finally found the cave.”_ Not he found the cave. _Finally._ As though it should have happened sooner. 

But Jason had argued against any of them getting involved. If they were anticipating him finding the cave, why would he argue against the idea of child-sidekicks? And if his story was true, he _was_ a sidekick once. 

Honestly, Jisung Park, newest holder of the title _Robin,_ was distracting himself. He was supposed to be getting ready to grapple across a street. From the top of the tallest building in Gotham. 

He was terrified.

This was a milestone though. If he and Jeno made it through this “solo” night, they’d be fully fledged members of the Bat-family. Things were changing again. Oddly, other than the heights, Jisung was the most nervous about figuring out where to leave his uniform. And after this, he’d still be with Batman for a while. No pressure, right?

Jeno made the first move, and Jisung just had to follow. It was now or never, in a sense, and since he was out here, trying to prevent Chenle from trying to become Robin, really, it was more of a now situation. He fired his grappling hook after Jeno, and tried not to think too much as he jumped off the edge of the building.

His stomach rose to meet his heart as Jisung fell off the side of the building. It was terrifying, and also exhilarating. He wanted to laugh, not a quiet, almost non-existent laugh, but almost more of a shout. If this was what flying was like, he was sure he could get over his fear of heights. 

Maybe he should talk to Jaemin about incorporating some sort of a glider into his suit.

***

**Warehouse District, Gotham**

The plan was set. The next afternoon, Han Shifeng’s men would make their move on Gotham Academy. Zhong Chenle would be theirs soon enough.


	27. Proud and Defiant, We'll Slay the Giant.  Let Us Seize the Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivalry, Rebellion, and the Rights of Danseur

**Gotham Academy Gymnasium**

It was the day. Danseur was set to face off against the Gotham Academy Dance Team at the first basketball pep rally of the season. After the previous night’s crime fighting, Jisung wasn’t nervous at all. If he could jump off a building, he could dance in front of the school.

He tried to impart that confidence to his teammates.

“Alright guys,” he began, “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. We’re about to go out there for our first ever performance. We’ve practiced our choreography until it feels like muscle memory. We’ve hydrated. We’ve dressed. Now let’s go out there and show them just how cool Danseur can be!”

The team let up a cheer. The Dance Team was up first, so Danseur bounced in the nook between bleachers. They needed to stay warm. 

Each member of the Dance Team stood in the middle of the gym. The girls all had their hair done up in tight buns and wore pointe shoes. The boys all slicked their hair back. Their slippers stood out, gray against the white hardwood floors. Each and every dancer wore flowing uniforms in the Gotham Academy blue and gold. All of them stood upright, starting with their heels together and their toes turned out. 

Jisung was hyper aware of the way they moved. The dancers were light on their feet. They danced with elongated movements. Their choreography lacked percusivity, but it still looked challenging — impressive. Their music was a classical piece. Jisung supposed that was obvious. He was pretty sure it came from _Giselle_. 

He really hoped they weren’t trying to make a statement with that.

Before he could think about it too much, the Dance Team had finished. The applause was polite, but not particularly enthusiastic. Danseur moved to take up their positions while the applause died off and the pep rally MC introduced them. 

Jisung crouched in front of his dancers. He knew they would all be in their starting positions as well. It wasn’t any different from practice. It crossed his mind to be thankful. The “catch the wall” team had all remembered to wear non-marking shoes. There was going to be enough controversy. He didn’t need the school coming down on him for marking up the wall. 

All of these thoughts went out of his head as the music started. He lost himself in the dance, bouncing and popping to the beat. Somewhere outside of himself, he heard a gasp when Lizzo clearly pronounced _I’m a hundred percent that bitch_ over the speakers. He smirked a bit. He couldn’t wait for their reactions to the choreography itself.

He only really came back to himself once he heard the applause. It wasn’t polite this time. No, it was enthusiastic. From the gap between the bleachers, the Dance Team looked on in horror. 

Even if the Dance Team’s music from _Giselle_ wasn’t a statement, Danseur’s decision to dance to _Truth Hurts_ sure was. And it seemed like the rest of the school got it.

Maybe next time they could push the envelope a little more. 

***

**The Stairs in Front of Gotham Academy**

Chenle wouldn’t stop talking about the pep rally. Yeah, it went great. The reactions were fantastic. The crew had decided to do _Clint Eastwood_ for their next dance. Jisung really didn’t see what else there was to talk about. 

Clearly though, Chenle thought that every single second was worth going on about, not only to Jisung, but also to Haechan and Yangyang, who were waiting with them. Yangyang was listening more patiently than Jisung thought possible. Haechan… had checked out.

“The look on Robyn Wysse’s face was spectacular,” Chenle said.

If he was going to be honest, Jisung was on the verge of checking out too. The only thing keeping him attentive right now was his recent Robin training. The Bats had a way of instilling a certain paranoia in a person. Even before his training, really. Jisung had a sneaking suspicion that that was the real reason Cass had been under his bed that one time.

Thanks to his newfound inability to zone out, Jisung was the first to notice the group of adults approaching them. 

“Guys, I think we should move out of the way. They look like they’re on a mission,” Jisung said. All the while, he was analyzing the way they moved. Most of them walked unevenly, like one leg was heavier than the other. All of them had trench coats on.

Oh. That wasn’t good. That was really not good.

Chenle had stopped talking at this point. Jisung whispered to him, “I need you to keep Haechan and Yangyang calm. I think those guys are armed. I’m going to go run and change.”

Chenle nodded almost imperceptibly. He moved to stand in front of Haechan and Yangyang as they all moved out of the way of the group. Jisung disappeared over the railing. The area was more open than he would have liked, but it was out of sight of the men and his friends. It would have to do.


	28. Knives Out and Beaks Bloody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung was right, and Haechan pays the price.

**Outside Gotham Academy**

Haechan had a bad feeling about the guys coming up to the school. This feeling only got worse when the group made it clear they were coming right toward them. Haechan had a feeling that it was _for_ them, rather than _toward_ them. 

And of course, Chenle, the shrimpiest of the group, was standing in front of them. Haechan took a look around. He counted Chenle, Yangyang, and himself, but Jisung was missing. He must have gone to get a teacher.

“Can we help you?” Yangyang asked. He looked like he was ready to fight. It was scarier than Haechan anticipated. 

“We are here for Zhong Chenle,” the man at the front said. He had a pronounced accent, like Chenle’s. 

“Are you his parents?” Haechan asked. Chenle had stiffened at the comment, so he was willing to bet the answer was no. Behind the group, Haechan’s parents pulled up in a car. 

“Yes.” _Liar._ “Well… we were sent by his parents. He needs to come with us to meet them.”

The man was still lying. He was a very good liar, to be sure, but Chenle’s reactions gave him away. And Haechan would be damned if he let some random Chinese men run away with his friend.

When did he start thinking of Chenle as a real friend?

“I don’t think so,” Haechan said. “You guys need to scram before something regrettable happens, doncha know?” The tag question was deliberate. He wasn’t actually going to put them in a woodchipper, but the step they took back at the _Fargo_ accent was encouraging.

“Donghyuckie? What’s going on here?” Haechan’s mom asked, stepping out of the car. His dad wasn’t far behind. 

If Jisung had gone to get a teacher, where was he? This conversation had already been going on for too long. Haechan could feel his powers slipping out of his control. If it came down to it, he decided, he would do it. He would expose himself to save his parents, and his friends. He knew it was going to happen eventually. He just couldn’t think of the consequences now. 

“Zhong _Xiansheng_,” the man addressed Chenle, holding out his hand. Chenle recoiled then, falling back into Yangyang. The man sighed as each of the men behind him unholstered their weapons. One rifle each. Haechan was pretty sure they were carrying more than that, but this was already bad enough. 

The man spoke again. “Mr. Zhong will be coming with us, whether willingly or not. And if you get in the way, we are not afraid to shoot. I hear Gothamites do not fear guns or gangsters. I do not believe the rumor.”

There was no way he was going to let them just _take_ Chenle from them. Unfortunately for Haechan, it seemed his parents had the same idea. 

“We’re not scared of you. And you will not be taking this boy.” Of course, his dad was running interference while his mom called the police. It was going to be too long before they got to the school though. By then, all of them would be dead and Chenle kidnapped. 

The leader-man, because it had become clear that that’s who he was, sighed again and gestured to Haechan’s dad. Before Haechan could think, the gun had fired, and his hand had flown up.

It was a good thing he had reacted. He managed to push the bullet just enough to hit his dad in the arm instead of in the chest. The gunman’s eyes widened, and snapped over to the rest of the group. Haechan hadn’t put his arm down. 

_“Ta shi chaoren!”_ Haechan was pretty sure his secret was up now. All of the guns were trained on their little cluster. 

“Yangyang, Chenle, get behind me,” Haechan said. It would be easier to focus with them behind him. “On my signal, you run.”

“Mind if I lend a hand?” Half the guns moved to the facade of the school. There, hanging from a gargoyle, was _Robin._

“You’re going to get shot!” Yangyang shouted. The end of his sentence was lost in the din of firing rifles. 

This time, Haechan was ready. All it took was one thought, and the bullets stopped, inches from his hands. Another, and they dropped to the ground. Meanwhile, Robin flipped and fought the goons themselves, disarming many of them. A third thought, and any rifles on the ground levitated and were crushed. 

Before too long, Haechan’s mom had finally gotten through to the authorities, who arrived to find Haechan putting pressure on his dad’s arm, and all of the men (members of the Shanghai Triads, according to the officer) tied up. Robin had disappeared shortly after binding them. 

A man on a motorcycle arrived shortly after the ambulance took Haechan’s parents to the hospital. He dismounted and removed his helmet, clear blue eyes wide in panic. 

“Where’s Jisung? Is he safe? I heard what happened on the Bludhaven scanner and came as soon as I could,” the man said. 

“Mr. Officer Grayson! It was horrible,” Chenle responded. 

“Chenle, where is Jisung?” Mr. Grayson asked again. 

“He is safe. He went to the bathroom before the shooting.” Chenle nodded once, stiff, strong. He still looked like he wanted to cry.

“Actually, he hasn’t come back yet,” Yangyang added. “Mr. Grayson.”

“Please call me Dick. As long as you guys are all safe. I’m sure GCPD is taking care of things.” Mr. Grayson — Dick? — seemed to calm down once he knew Jisung was safe. Haechan didn’t know what his relation was, but he seemed to care about Jisung a lot.

Jisung walked out of the school then, eyebrows disappearing into his bangs. He started sprinting when he saw Dick. 

“Little Bird!” Dick shouted when he saw him. “Oh my God I was so scared.”

“I’m fine Dick. I’m actually not sure what happened.” 

“Well,” Dick said, swallowing Jisung in his embrace, “We can all explain on the way. I’m going to call Alfred though. Three kids are _not_ going to fit on my motorcycle.”

Sure enough, a car showed up a few minutes later. Jisung had been filled in. It was odd though, he didn’t seem surprised by anything. 

Haechan filed that away for later. For now, his friends had kept his secret safe, and he had enough on his mind. 

About two minutes into the car ride he was out.


	29. Sing Sweet Nightingale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is hard not to snitch under pressure from the Bat-Brothers.

**The Bat Cave**

“Wha…” Chenle knew that someone had been talking to him. Probably trying to debrief him on his almost-kidnapping. He had a lot on his mind, though, and may have zoned out a bit. 

“Chenle, I asked if you gave us all the details. You need to tell us anything you can remember.” Oh. It was Tim and Dick. That made sense.

Chenle didn’t respond right away. That “all the details” was part of what had been bothering him. He had given them all of the information he could about the attackers, but neither he nor Jisung had mentioned Haechan’s meta...ness. It wasn’t really Chenle’s secret to tell, but at the same time, watching Haechan, he could see why Bruce thought metahumans were dangerous. 

“I have given you all of the details about the men from the Triads,” Chenle finally answered. 

Dick put his hands on his hips then, and gave Chenle his best Bat-glare imitation. “You’re leaving something out. Don’t lie to me, Chenle.”

That glare just about worked. “It is not dangerous.” 

“I mean, it kind of is, but the kid wouldn’t do it intentionally.” Apparently the glare had much more power over Jisung than it did Chenle. 

Chenle shot Jisung a long, sideways look. _He_ wouldn’t give Haechan up. If the family was going to find out it would be from Jisung, or outside means.

“Jisung, what do you mean?” Tim asked. He hadn’t said much during the debrief, mostly just taking notes.

“Well… we may have found out that one of our friends is a metahuman, and a powerful one at that.” Jisung at least had the sense to look sheepish. And not give away his name needlessly. 

Of course, the family was happy to poke and prod until they got _all_ of the information. Eventually, Jisung had to slip. It took pressure, not only from Dick, but also from Tim, and _Jason_ of all people, but he finally spilled. Chenle couldn’t say he would have lasted much longer. 

“The kid who fell asleep in the car?” Dick said. 

“That one, yeah,” Jisung replied. He was looking at the ground in front of him. Chenle couldn’t blame him. 

“What’s going on?” Jaemin asked. He and Jeno had just arrived.

“There’s a kid at your school who’s an unmentored metahuman. Goes by the name of Haechan,” Tim relayed without looking up from his notes. 

“Hey I know that kid,” Jeno said. “He’s in my class. Got a weird accent.”

“It’s a Dakota accent Jeno,” Jaemin said. “You probably know it as a _Fargo_ accent.”

Dick looked at Chenle and Jisung then. “Neither of you mentioned there was a kid from Dakota here.”

“It didn’t seem important,” Jisung said, defensively. “He’s a great dancer, and not afraid to be himself at all. I don’t really care where he came from.”

“Jisung, Dakota City is where they had that accident a few months ago.” This time, Tim did look up as he spoke. “The one that turned all those kids into metahumans.”

“Like Static?” Jeno asked. 

Chenle wanted to ask what Static was in this context, but before he could, the conversation had moved on. Jeno and Jaemin had gone to get ready for patrol. The older boys were planning on how best to find Haechan a mentor. He realized, listening to their discussion, that they didn’t really know what Haechan’s powers were. Honestly, Chenle had been there and he didn’t really know. 

Haechan had picked up and moved the rifles without touching them, but there were a lot of different components to them, and he could have powers specific to any one of those components. If Chenle was planning to bring him in, he would want to be prepared for at least general telekinesis and maybe magnetism powers too. At least. 

He hoped that whoever decided to approach Haechan about the mentor… thing would do some recon first, or …

While Chenle was thinking, the older boys had come to the decision of what to do. Tim was heading out, the pockets of his utility belt bulging. It was evident that, rather than Chenle’s method of learning more first, and then approaching Haechan, Tim had decided he was just going to be prepared for any powers Haechan may exhibit. Chenle was pretty sure that wasn’t a good idea, but a quick head turn to see Batman himself standing, glowering over Dick and Jason, and it was pretty clear why. 

If Chenle was being honest, he still got intimidated by Batman, and he didn’t think that was going to go away anytime soon. Bruce wasn’t scary himself, but once he put that mask on… well, that was a different story.


	30. I Could Do This All Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red Robin was really starting to regret some of his life choices. Haechan just regrets everything.

**Gotham General Hospital**

Red Robin stood on the roof of Gotham General, preparing to rappel down to the window of Mr. Lee’s room. According to Oracle’s research, Haechan Lee was still there. There were no reports of metahuman activity from the hospital, but Red Robin presumed Haechan had a firm enough grip on his powers to not lose control of them very often. He had gone months without discovery in Gotham, after all. With Oracle, that was no mean feat. 

Below him, an ambulance pulled up to the emergency room. He took that moment to move.

Once inside the building, Red Robin was immediately on guard. He clipped the grapple line to his belt, in case he was thrown out the window. In his recent recruitment trips out of the city, he’d had a run-in with a kid his own age, or at least, who appeared to be his age, who had indeed thrown him out a window. That kid had referred to his powers as _tactile telekinesis_.(1) So far he hadn’t had any more telekinetic run ins of any variety, and he has a strong suspicion that Haechan’s powers were more magnetic in nature, but it was better to be over-prepared and encumbered than to be underprepared and dead. 

All of this crossed his mind in a blink, before he was nearly knocked out the window anyway by a chair. It wasn’t a chair moving by telekinesis either. No, on the other end of the chair, holding the back, was Haechan. 

“Get out of my father’s room!” Haechan shouted as he took another swing. 

Red Robin caught the chair this time before a leg hit him in the face. “I’m actually here to talk to you,” he said.

“I don’t care! I don’t want anything to do with you.” Jeno wasn’t kidding about the accent. Red Robin would almost have believed he was from the countryside, if he didn’t already know better.

“Just - _whiff_ \- listen - _whiff_ \- for one - _whiff_ \- second.” Red Robin was tired of having to dodge. He pulled out his staff. It wasn’t that he wanted to hurt Haechan. Quite the opposite. He just couldn’t _not_ defend himself anymore. At this rate, Haechan was going to put out one of the lenses in his mask, an accident that would be disastrous. 

“NO!” Haechan roared before he threw the chair at Red Robin, rushing behind it. 

“I need you to come with me so we can find you a mentor,” Red Robin tried to reason.

“I need you to leave me and my family alone. I didn’t want to be here anyway. I’m certainly not going anywhere with you.” Haechan was fast, and strong. He still didn’t seem to be using his powers. Instead, he was relying on almost brute physicality. Red Robin was used to reading his opponents, figuring out their patterns and breaking them in unexpected ways. It was part of why the others (especially Jason) had dubbed him the _smart Robin._

The problem was, Haechan didn’t have any patterns. He wasn’t a trained fighter, but he was a dancer and a cheerleader. His fighting almost looked more like freestyling, but with closed fists or filed nails out. 

It made Red Robin glad the lenses in his mask were made of the same material as safety goggles. Glass would have shattered by now, or at least scratched. 

Red Robin had to take a heel to the cheekbone before he decided that the only way Haechan was going to come with him was under the influence of a tranquilizer or a shock. He’d really prefer the tranquilizer. It would be less painful for Haechan, who would hopefully resent him less afterwards. He brandished the staff one handed while his other hand reached into the back of his utility belt for the pre-loaded needles. 

Before he could take one out, Haechan had him pinned, only the staff holding him off from tearing off the Red Robin mask. 

It was going to have to be a shock. 

As Red Robin activated the battery within his aluminum alloy staff, he got kicked in the face once again by Haechan. 

And then it was over. 

***

**Elsewhere...**

Haechan wasn’t surprised that he woke up somewhere other than the hospital. The cold and damp was interesting, to be sure. He tried not to panic at the fact that he couldn’t see. Red Robin was a good guy; he wouldn’t have gouged out Haechan’s eyes.

Right?

Right?!

Right.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he wouldn’t call it panic, he noticed the scratch of cloth against his eyebrows. They had blindfolded him.

That was a relief.

The relief was washed away as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone (or something?) was looking at him. He was sure of it, even as he only heard a drip of water somewhere in the space.

“Hello?” he said. “Whoever you are, your house has a leak.” That probably wasn’t smart. Unless you considered being a smart-ass smart. 

A chuckle to Haechan’s left sent him jerking in that direction. It sounded familiar. 

“Are you with Red Robin?” he asked. It was probably a stupid question, but he needed to say something, and it sounded way less dumb than _who are you?_ would have. 

“Chickadee! Stop messing with him,” said another, _very_ familiar voice.

“Fine…” Chickadee sighed. “You are no fun, Sabre.”

Sabre? As in one of the new vigilantes running around at night? He was with the Bats? Chickadee had to be. Well… unless he was from Star City. Somehow, Haechan had a feeling that he wasn’t associated with the Black Canary, though.

Before he could let that line of reasoning get any further, the blindfold was undone. The dripping made sense then. He was in a cave, surrounded by stalagmites. In front of him was the boy who had come crashing down the fire escape.

“You! You were in my window that night.” _Yes. Yes he was Captain Obvious. Now why couldn’t he say something actually intelligent_.

“Uh…I gue-” Sabre started, before his mouth snapped shut. Haechan’s hair was rising again. There was someone behind him. Someone frightening enough to stop Sabre mid sentence. Haechan didn’t really know Sabre that well, but he got the feeling that when Sabre was determined, you would be hard pressed to stop him.

Out of the shadows on his periphery melted a shape that was difficult to mistake. Ear points stood up over bright white eyes, both on a head that sat atop an enormous black mass of muscle and fabric. 

Even though he’d never seen him in person, Haechan was certain, this was the Batman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) See The Boy With No Name for details.


	31. Listen… You Smell Something?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with all of his power, remember, he's just a kid.

**Batcave**

Tim pressed an ice pack to his face. Somehow, even with the reinforced plastic lenses in his mask, Haechan managed to kick him hard enough that his eye was swollen shut and the area around it was heavily bruised. He winced as he prodded at the area around the ice pack. 

“What happened to you?” Dick asked, melting out of the shadows. 

“I got Haechan. He put up a good fight.” Dick didn’t need to know specifically that he had gotten kicked in the mask.

“So what’s his power set? Telekinesis, or magnetism? What is it?” Of course that’s what Dick was interested in. What were the kid's powers, and what weaknesses could he exploit in case the kid went rogue?

“I don’t know.”

Dick stared at him for a moment. “What do you mean _you don’t know?”_ And there was the start of the Grayson Rage. Tim had never had it directed at him before, but he’d seen it plenty of times in the past.

“He didn’t use his powers in the fight. Honestly, the kid could come close to measuring up to Lady Shiva.” That... may have been an exaggeration, but it was a well founded one. 

Dick looked taken aback. “He fought you… with no powers.”

“Well, unless you consider a chair to be a power, but I sure don’t,” Tim snarked. Then, more seriously, he added, “Is he going to join the family? Or someone else’s family?”

“I don’t think-” Dick was cut off though, by a shout from elsewhere in the Cave. 

“I DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO BE IN GOTHAM!” 

Idly, Tim wondered who Haechan was yelling at this time.

***

Bruce struggled not to laugh. The last time he’d had a child this vehemently against whatever it was he was doing… well, the most recent time was Jisung, but that was much more tense. Before that, and the last confrontation in the Cave like this, was with a thirteen year old Jason. 

God he wished Jason would just stick around. The house seemed so melancholy without him. 

There were, however, present matters to attend to. This boy wasn’t Jason, he was a metahuman named Haechan. A metahuman with yet unknown powers. And those powers posed a significant danger to himself, the people around him (including Bruce’s own children), and Gotham at large. 

Bruce hated unknowns, especially dangerous ones.

“As I understand it, you’re a metahuman, right? With no one to teach you how to use your abilities?” Bruce was doing his best to not sound like he was interrogating the kid. He was, regardless of metahuman abilities, still just that. A kid. One who went to school with his youngest son. Keeping this in mind, he crouched down to Haechan’s level. 

Haechan looked just to the left of him. “Yeah… Where I’m from, they call us Bang Babies.”

“Dakota, right?” Bruce almost smiled under the cowl. “I know someone up there who’s doing a lot of good.”

“Static isn’t… wait. You _like_ him?” 

Bruce couldn’t blame Haechan for being surprised. Batman had a bit of a reputation for being _anti-meta._ Contrary to popular belief though, he didn’t hate people with powers. Worry about the implications of someone going rogue, yes. Have contingency plans in case anyone he knew did, definitely. He’d been betrayed by old friends too often for him to not be a little paranoid. 

“Yes. Static is a good kid. And he’s a fast learner.” Bruce dropped a bit of his Batman gravel, simultaneously going over his mental list of Justice League members able to mentor Haechan. Really, it depended on what exactly his powers were. “I don’t want you to have to learn the same way he does though. I want to find you a mentor, but to do that, I need to know what your powers are.”

“I dunno…” Bruce had a feeling he didn’t mean a lack of knowledge about his own powers. 

“What’s got you holding back?” Bruce said, leaning back onto his heels.

Haechan looked further away from him. “I heard a rumor…” then he sat up straighter, looking the mask in the eyes. “I heard a rumor that you have plans to _deal with_ every member of the Justice League. Even though they’re your friends.”

Oh… Bruce was going to have to find where that leak was. No one was supposed to know, outside of the League themselves. 

Externally, he sighed. “You know Harvey Dent was once my friend?” 

One of Haechan’s eyes twitched. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know. 

“So was Thomas Elliot. And the Red Hood was my son.” 

“So you constantly live in fear that you’re going to be betrayed?” Haechan’s gaze didn’t waver.

“No. I trust the people close to me to do the right thing. It is, however, better to be prepared than caught unaware.” He tried to impart that lesson on all of his proteges. He could only hope they absorbed the lesson. 

Haechan frowned at him. “I guess that makes sense. And it is probably better than not trusting them outright.” 

He sighed and continued. “Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m telekinetic.”


	32. I’m Going to Make Him an Offer He Can’t Refuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haechan Lee makes a deal with the devil. Er... actually the Bat. Same difference, right?

**Bat Cave**

“Fine. I’ll tell you. I’m telekinetic.”

Ah… that was going to make things difficult. Bruce ran through the list of league members with telekinesis. It didn’t take very long -- there was only one, and Bruce wasn’t sure Haechan would want to work with him. He started planning an alternative.

After a long moment, Bruce spoke. “Haechan, I have two options for you.”

Haechan shifted in his seat. His hands were still bound. 

“The first,” he explained, reaching behind Haechan to undo the restraints, “is to put you in the care of the Martian Manhunter. He would teach you how to better control your powers on a purely telekinetic level.” 

The face Haechan made made it pretty obvious that that option was… distasteful.

“The other,” Bruce said, settling back on his heels, “is for you to stay here in Gotham. You would be subject to the same training as Robin and Chickadee, and the other vigilantes to an extent. I couldn’t teach you about telekinesis, specifically, but we would work on control in other ways. Either way, you need to have a mentor, someone to teach you so that you don’t accidentally hurt someone.”

Haechan held one wrist in the other hand, looking down at his lap. “My parents live here. They’d probably think it was weird if I disappeared around the time Martian Manhunter got a sidekick.” 

He looked up at Bruce then, determination setting his features. “You know, you were the main reason I didn’t want to move here. You and your crazy family. But I guess I’m going to become a part of that crazy family. I have one rule though.” 

A rule? Did he not want Bruce to come up with a plan to deal with him going rogue? 

“I don’t want training on my powers.” 

What?

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t want you to try to train me on how to use my powers. I don’t want to use them. I don’t want to be tempted to use them. I didn’t want them in the first place, and as helpful as they were in that confrontation, they should be a last resort only.”

Then softer, Haechan added, “I don’t want to be a metahuman. I just want to be human.”

***

Jisung and Chenle had been waiting for Haechan to make his decision. Jisung was hoping he stuck around. Through Danseur, he had come to care about Haechan a lot. 

And there it was: _I guess I’m going to become a part of this crazy family._ He was going to stay. Jisung couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation from their hiding place, but really, at that point he was waiting for Batman’s signal. 

“I can agree to that,” Batman chuckled loudly enough for Jisung to hear him. “As you are joining the family, there’s something else you should know.” 

That was their cue. Bruce would never admit it, but he loved the dramatics. 

Jisung and Chenle exited their hiding place. Jeno and Jaemin came in from the other side. Cass was already there.

“Uh… what am I supposed to be knowing? Your family is huge and ridiculous?” Of course he said something snarky before they were done. 

Once everyone, save Dick and Tim were present, they all removed their masks. Bruce started, triggering a wave effect across the room that finished when an already unmasked Tim and Dick entered the room. 

Haechan stared at them all, open mouthed and shameless. Jisung had to stifle a laugh. He never thought he’d see that much shock on the face of the unflappable Haechan Lee. 

“Yo-- You’re Bruce Wayne?” He asked. Jisung could see Dick’s shoulders shaking on his periphery. “And Dick Grayson, and Tim Drake? My dad’s boss is Red Robin.” Haechan settled back in his chair.

“And Jisung. Jisung is Robin. That makes sense. The flippy kid who saved us from those Chinese gangsters is the kid who Supermaned into the gym on the first day of dance. Sure. That makes a ton of sense.”

And then, he saw Chenle, standing there in his Chickadee black and gray. 

“What the Hell guys?”

***

Haechan decided then and there that he needed to bring some aesthetic to this family. Their uniforms ranged from drab to eyesore with very little in between. He started brainstorming as Nightwing -- _Dick Grayson!_ \-- brought him home on his motorcycle. 

The thought hit him as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. He wasn’t going to be able to tell Minhee. For the first time, he was going to have to keep a secret from his twin. Oh jeez….

Maybe he could swing it as extra hours for Danseur? But then she’d check with Yangyang. _Shit! Yangyang. _ What was he going to tell him? Yangyang didn’t even know Haechan had powers. Never mind that he was now involved with the _Bats_ of all people. 

The Gotham crazy had infected Haechan. It had to have. What other reason would he have for doing this? 

In the end, he hadn’t said anything to his mom, or to Minhee. He needed to sleep off his exhaustion and the sheer insanity of his decision. 

***

He had been sleeping fitfully for a few hours when a very loud, very close scream woke him completely. He turned on the light at his bedside. The only other person in his room should have been Minhee. Instead, the window was open, and the Red Hood had his sister at gunpoint. 

“Hey! Get away from my sister.” Haechan said, firmly. 

“You need to promise me something first,” Hood said. Haechan hated that the helmet made him nearly impossible to read. “Promise me that you won’t go back to the Bats, and I’ll let your sister go.”

Well there went _that_ secret. “I can’t do that.”

“They’re hunting innocent teenagers and brainwashing them into joining the crusade.”

“They didn’t brainwash me. My choices were to go with them or with _Martian Manhunter._ Not to mention that now you’re trying to blackmail me in the other direction. Seriously not cool.” Haechan had already had it with the threatening vigilantes today. He had no patience for this guy.

He did drop the gun a bit at that. “Go with Martian Manhunter? Wh-”

“Yeah, newsflash, there’s a telekinetic Bang Baby in Gotham. Now get out of my house before I extricate my sister from your arms and throw you out myself.” Haechan tried to be threatening. He really did, but it was so hard when he was wearing his silky pajamas, no makeup, and his accent coming out. It really was amazing what glitter and cadence could do for your intimidation factor.

“Alright kid. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And with that, he was gone. 

Minhee though, was looking at him like he was a different person.

“Who are you, and what did you do with Haechan?” So apparently she thought he _was_ a different person.

“I’m still me, Minnie. I’m just… going to be spending some time with the Bat and company. Nothing too weird.”

“That’s like, the least Haechan thing possible.” Minhee gave him the flat look she usually reserved for their parents. Or idiots at school.

“Well, they gave me an ultimatum. You heard what I told Red Hood!” He never thought he was going to have to defend himself to his sister. 

“I guess… Why didn’t you tell me when you got home?” Ok, now she looked hurt. That was worse than the disbelief.

“There is stuff I’m not allowed to tell you, and I didn’t really know if that was one of those things.” This was probably a good time to be as honest with her as possible. “I don’t even have an alter-ego yet.”

If Haechan knew his sister, she still wasn’t satisfied. That would have to do for now, though.

“And you weren’t planning on asking for help with that one?” She smiled slyly. 

Oh. This was going to be good.

“They’re all so _dull_,” Haechan whined. “I need something to spice up the aesthetic.”

“You still have to be a bird though,” Minhee said.

“Of course. It needs glitter too.”

“Of course.” 

“Any ideas?”

“Of course.”

***

The next time he saw Haechan, Dick quickly found himself feeling put out. Haechan seemed to think he was the first Bat to want a sparkly costume. 

Admittedly the design was way better than the Discowing suit had ever been. It was eye-hurty to be sure, but that had more to do with the neon yellow base than any combination of colors. 

“The mask will be covered in black glitter,” Haechan said, presenting the design sketch to him and Bruce. “Oh, and I want to call myself Goldfinch.”

Well, the idea of gold-anything seemed to suit Haechan’s dramatic personality. It also made the yellow make sense. 

“You sure? You’re going to be very visible in that,” Dick said. That was a lesson he had already learned, both with the yellow Robin cape, and with the Discowing suit.

“I’m sure. I looked up the bird in the Audubon Guide to make sure the colors matched,” Haechan explained.

Dick still had his doubts, but Haechan seemed sure. 

He would be the Goldfinch then. For the foreseeable future, anyway.


	33. 1.21 Gigawatts?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School senior Mark Lee has a bad day, resulting in some major, permanent, life changes.

**Central City High School**

It had not been Mark Lee’s day. He knew it was going to be rough when the day started with spilling orange juice on his music homework. About halfway through the school day, he realized that, despite the threatening clouds that morning, he had forgotten his umbrella. This realization came, of course, in the middle of a forensics test when it started audibly downpouring. Then, in last period honors chemistry, Mark managed to spill his entire titration on himself. 

And that was what brought him to walking home in a thunderstorm, grumbling about how he needed to change his clothes to no one in particular.

“I’ve been so klutzy today, what is going _on_ with me?” he murmured to himself. He really didn’t need to keep his voice down. There was no one else around. 

“What next? Am I gonna get struck by lighting? Why’s there a thunderstorm happening in December anyway?” The weather that day had been very strange. Hailstones still littered the sidewalk. Mark walked with his head down, in an effort to not take yet another spill that day.

Later on, he would laugh at the irony of the situation. In the moment though, it was the most painful experience Mark had ever had. Take a moment to imagine the feeling of all of your muscles, both skeletal and internal, cramping simultaneously, that would be what it felt like to be struck by lightning in a normal situation. On top of that, though, Mark was covered in titration. Molecularly, his body rearranged itself to allow the force of the lightning to stay with him. 

And yet, somehow he didn’t black out until it was over.

***

Mark woke up about ten feet from where he’d been struck. There was a distinct scorch mark on the ground where he had been standing at the time. The air still smelled like electricity -- ozone? -- and his mouth tasted like iron. He shivered.

He supposed he was lucky to be alive. Sure, people survive being struck by lightning, but it was definitely not an experience he ever wanted to repeat, and he definitely felt like he probably shouldn’t have been sitting there, thoughts racing around his head. 

So he got up and went home. He had so many thoughts about being struck by lightning that he didn’t notice the trip took him half the time it should have.

**Lee Residence, Central City**

The next morning, Mark completed his morning routine quickly. He thought it was a bit strange that his parents weren’t up by the time he was leaving for school, but they may have taken the day off and decided to sleep in. He decided he needed to leave a note about the lights as well. They kept flickering. They might need new light-bulbs soon. 

On the way to school, it seemed like cars were going slower than normal. Maybe the rain had turned to freezing rain at some point? But Mark didn’t see any ice. When he arrived, the school was locked. 

Only then did Mark notice it wasn’t cloudy anymore. It was just dark. He checked the time on his phone. 

“How…” The clock read 6:30am. Of course his parents weren’t up and the school wasn’t open. How he had managed it though, was a mystery.

Waiting for the school building to be unlocked, Mark found that he kept getting bored very quickly. What was taking so long? His twitter wasn’t refreshing as quickly as normal either. 

The greatest shock, though, came when he tried to talk to the first teacher who arrived. It was his music teacher, Ms. Meyer. 

“Mark? What are you doing here so early?” she asked. It sounded like she was speaking in slow motion. Why would she do that though?

“I don’t know. I went through my morning routine like normal, and got here, but the school was locked, and I checked the time on my phone and it was 6:30 for some reason and why are you talking so slow?” The words spewed from Mark’s mouth. Once he started, he just couldn’t stop.

“Hon, you’re going to have to slow down. I didn’t catch a lick of that.” 

Slow down? But she was the one going in… wait. Had he been going faster than normal? Was that what this was? But why would he be… he shouldn’t have been talking so fast that he was incomprehensible, right? Right?! Oh god no…

“Mark, honey, I’m going to need you to breathe. Try to match your breathing to mine.” Ms. Meyer was in front of him then. Mark must have got lost in his own head. 

This time, he deliberately tried to talk slower. “I’m ok, Ms. Meyer. Just a little stressed. Can we go inside now?”


	34. When This Baby Hits 88 Miles Per Hour, You’re Gonna See Some Serious Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't how Barry Allen would have chosen to meet the new generation of heroes, but rarely do we get to make that choice.

**Central City Crime Lab**

Barry Allen came to a sudden screeching halt when he felt it. There had been a disturbance in the flow of the speed force. Almost like a new conduit to their world had opened. The only thing that could mean? There was a new speedster. 

“Uh… I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he told his lab assistant before rushing off to hide in the bathroom. At least, it would have been rushing for anyone else. He made sure the door was locked, and used his jacket to stuff the bottom. It wouldn’t do for his police coworkers to overhear him talking with a vigilante.

Once he was sure no one could eavesdrop on him, Barry fired up his communicator. “Come on, come on, pick up!” He was practically bouncing in his impatience. 

“Batman!” he said once the line picked up. “I have an issue I need your help with ASAP.”

“Mr. Flash? Mr. Batman is busy right now. I can maybe help?” Oh… who was this then? And how did he know Barry was the Flash?

“Who am I speaking to?” Barry asked, wary.

“I am called Chickadee.” This Chickadee sounded pretty young. Did Bruce get a new protege? 

“And you --”

“Yeah, we work with Batman. He’s busy, like Chickadee said already. This is Robin speaking.”

It didn’t sound like Robin. Or at least, the Robin he knew. “I’d really rather talk to Batman himself if you don’t mind.”

“What if we do mind?”

“Robin, please be nice to Mr. Flash.”

“You know Bats is busy, Dee.”

The two boys on the end of the line continued arguing for a bit. Barry sat by and waited while they did. Barry hated waiting. 

Then, finally, he heard it. Batman’s voice. 

“Boys, why are you fighting? Is there someone on the communicator line?”

“It is Mr. Flash. He talks very fast.” Chickadee was so kind to inform Batman.

“I’ll take it from here.” Then, to Barry he said, “Flash, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He didn’t want to be, but it turns out, focusing on not accidentally vibrating through the toilet seat takes an intense amount of concentration.

“What seems to be the problem. Must be urgent if you called while you were at work.” There was a wryness to his tone that honestly scared Barry a bit. Batman didn’t have a sense of humor. Was he in trouble?

“Uh… are you ok?” Barry asked instead of what he had called to ask. 

“... I’m fine Flash. If you called just to check up on me, you should do so outside of your work hours.”

“Nonono! Iwasjust caught off guard bythe humor. I wanted to tell you I thinkthere’sa new speedster on our Earth.” Barry consciously had to slow himself down. He hadn’t been this out of control in a while.

The line was quiet for a bit. “I’m guessing you have no idea where this new speedster is?”

“Nope. Not a clue. That’s why I called you.”

Bruce sighed over the line. “Of course it is. I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Later that evening, Barry got a text from Batman. _There’s a forensics class at Central City High School that could use you as a substitute tomorrow._ No other explanation. Barry supposed he’d know the kid when he saw them. While the digital analyses were ongoing, he collected the materials he was going to need. It had been years since he’d been in a high school forensics class. This was going to be fun.

**Central City High School**

Mark’s world was falling apart. Actually, it was slowing down, but y’know, it didn’t feel all that different. It was so hard to pay attention in class when a lecture that was supposed to be an hour felt like six. And the worst part of it all was that he had no idea why this was happening to him.

To top it all off, in first block, day two of everything being really slow, Mark had fallen through his own chair. Not out of it, _through_ it. 

That shouldn’t even be possible.

The point of it all though, was that Mark’s life was already getting more difficult by the second, when he got to forensics class second block and found his classmates all hovering around the door.

He wanted to ask what was going on, but that wasn’t really viable right then. He had tried, the day before, but no one had understood him. “You’re talking too fast Mark,” they had said. “You need to slow down.”

But he couldn’t slow down! So instead of asking what was going on, Mark decided to see for himself. 

When he poked his head in the door, he saw a blond man running around, splatter painting the walls with red… goop. The best word Mark could think of at that moment was goop. It took him a moment to realize that the man was going closer to his speed than everyone else’s. He wasn’t alone! But then, he didn’t know who this person was either, and the regular teacher wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Mark backed off. He had plenty of time before the bell rang to think. Or at least, he thought he did.

“Hi! I saw you peek in the classroom. Are you in forensics?”

“Holy shit!” The man from the classroom had seemingly come out of nowhere. “Who are you? Where’s Mrs. Macmillain?” 

“I’m her sub for the day. Barry Allen, Central City Crime Lab. Nice ta meetcha,” the man said.

“You could understand me? What’s going on?” Mark asked. This Barry Allen just added a whole new level of weird to the day.

Before Mark could get an answer to any of his questions, the bell rang. Mr. Allen zipped back in the door. The students filed in, ploddingly, after him.


	35. Strange Things are Happening to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing catch-up with our Gotham family.

**Gotham Academy**

There was a shadow in the corner of the gym. Normally, Haechan wouldn’t have been concerned about that, but then, shadows didn’t appear in the full light of fluorescent lamps. This wasn’t the first out of place shadow that day, either. There had been one in his math class, and in art, too. 

“What’s on your mind, Channie?” Yangyang asked on a water break. 

“Nothing seems weird to you today?” Maybe he was hallucinating. He had been getting less sleep than he used to, what with his new _extracurricular activities._

“Other than the fact that you’re staring off into space? No,” Yangyang answered. “You sure you’re good to work on your solo tonight? Jisung said it would be ok if you didn’t have it for the next pep rally.” 

“I’m fine, Yangyang. Jisung and I are both going to work on our solos at his place. You remember from last time, right?” It was the truth. The night wasn’t going to end with dance practice though.

Haechan stiffened. It looked like the shadow had started moving toward him, but then recoiled. That definitely wasn’t a natural shadow.

**Rooftop: Mid City Gotham**

“Are you sure Rob?” Sabre asked as Robin prepared to jump, no grapple in sight.

“Not at all. I hate this part.” Robin was never one to beat around the bush, that was for sure. “Sometimes I wish I could just do the flying, without the heights.”

Sabre smiled. “But that’s not how it works.”

“I know.” And then, he jumped. 

Robin free-fell for a moment, diamond plate soles glinting in the light spilling out of apartment windows, before he spread his arms and legs, clenching his fists. Z’s addition to his suit took effect then. Jisung was the first Robin to go capeless. Instead, he glided across the city like a flying squirrel on retractable built in gliders. It was incredible to see.

Sabre followed with his grappling hook. They were testing the gliders tonight. The design made sense -- it was like one of those base jumping suits people wore in travel ads sometimes. Those weren’t retractable though. Robin still had a grappling hook in his belt, just in case.

“How’s it working?” Sabre asked after a few rooftops.

“Flying wise it’s pretty great,” Robin said.

“I sense a ‘but’ in there.” Sabre adjusted his gloves. He wanted to adjust his mask, but it was firmly stuck to his face. 

“I’m not sure it’s going to be good for fighting. Like, it feels stiff along my sides and back.” Robin stretched to demonstrate. It didn’t look any stiffer. Sabre was just going to have to trust him.

“Well, now’s as good a time to test that as any. I can cover you.” Smiling with the mask stuck to his face was weird. Sabre wasn’t sure he was ever going to get used to it.

“I’ll try not to hit your sword,” Robin said before he jumped off the roof again.

**Batcave**

Haechan sat cross legged on a mat, tea in his hands. Before any regular Bat-training, apparently he needed to have “a firmer grasp of his powers, and by extension, his psyche.” Not that he minded meditating. It was actually kind of relaxing. The problem was more the reasoning. He didn’t want to engage with this _thing that happened to him._ He didn’t want to control it. He wanted it to go away. 

And he guessed, if that wasn’t going to happen any time soon, maybe controlling it so that it didn’t manifest was the next best thing, but Batman hadn’t put it that way. Instead he had to be all condescending about it, like Haechan wasn’t capable of controlling himself at all. 

Haechan stopped that train of thought before it could get too far. He sipped his green tea. _Mom would call it_ nokcha, he thought. Dick had called it _matcha_. Yes, this was a much calmer train of thought.

He continued to ponder tea until a _bang_ followed closely by an alarm broke his concentration. 

Tim and Chenle raced through the cave toward the area where Jaemin had been working on some experimental… something. Sure enough, smoke was billowing out from the far side of the blast screen. 

What had Haechan gotten himself into...


	36. Oh Captain My Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something seriously strange about Mr. Allen.

**Central City High School**

“Hello class! My name’s Mr. Allen, and I’m going to be your sub for the day,” Mr. Allen started. He was way more energetic than any substitute Mark had ever had before. If he was like Mark though, maybe that had something to do with it.

“Where’s Mrs. Macmillain?” Daisy, the girl slated to be valedictorian, asked. 

Mark wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone stutter physically before, but Mr. Allen seemed to for a moment before he replied, “She had a meeting this morning.”

“Why is there red goo all over the walls?” another student, Peggo, asked.

At that, Mr. Allen smiled. “That would be for today’s lesson.”

He paused for a moment before continuing, smiling all together too wide for comfort, “Today, we’re going to be talking about blood spatter.”

Mark gulped. This just wasn’t shaping up to be his day.

***

Mark didn’t see Mr. Allen again all day. On some level, he was kind of disappointed. Mr. Allen’s class was great, and he kept the pace up so that Mark didn’t get lost in his own thoughts. It was probably for the best though. 

He pondered this as he walked home from school. Maybe he could consciously slow himself down? Mark tried to focus on not moving as quickly. He couldn’t really tell if it was working or not, but it was comforting to think it was. 

“So you’ve figured out what’s going on?” Mr. Allen said from next to him.

“Holy shit!” Mark yelped as he screeched to a halt. When he turned to look, it was not, in fact, Mr. Allen next to him. It was the Flash. “Jesus, Mr. Flash, you scared me.”

The Flash winced. “Language, kid. Also sorry.” 

“Why th- why are you here?” Mark asked. 

The Flash looked around before nodding to himself. “I’m here because you need a mentor, kid. Also, what’s your name, so I can stop calling you kid? I can’t help but think it sounds kinda demeaning.”

“Uh… Mark. What do you mean I need a mentor?”

“You’re a speedster, Mark, like me and Kid Flash.”

A speedster? He was fast like the Flash? That made so much sense! But-

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Flash, but I can’t be a superhero. I’ve got school and college apps -” Mark wanted to continue, but the Flash was looking at him with a smirk.

“And you’ve got super speed now. At least let me help you learn to control it so you don’t fall through any more chairs. Who knows, maybe you’ll decide you like being a superhero.”

Really, that was an offer Mark couldn’t refuse.


	37. If I Take One More Step, It’ll Be the Farthest Away From Home I’ve Ever Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham is a city that chews you up and spits you back out again. Especially if you're not one of her native citizens.

**Gotham Central High School**

Renjun sat alone at the lunch table, as he had every day since Jeno and Jaemin transferred to Gotham Academy. Some preppy girls had tried to befriend him, but he had lashed out. He didn’t want more friends. He wanted to wallow in his loneliness. They were probably only trying to befriend him to prevent catastrophe anyway. 

He smiled a bit as he opened his lunch. There was nothing quite like homemade _bao_. His mom’s, in particular, were always flavorful, the dough, tender. They always felt like home, moreso now that home seemed so far away. He hadn’t set foot in San Francisco since moving to Gotham. The closest he got were the _bao_.

Maybe he could get back. He could apply to art schools in the San Francisco area, move back for college. Really, Renjun was pretty sure he’d be happier anywhere that wasn’t Gotham. 

***

In art class, Renjun was working on a pattern for… he figured it was going to be wallpaper. His base sheet was covered in a repeating pattern of perching birds -- robins, finches, cardinals, and one puffed up tufted titmouse at the center. Each was as detailed as Renjun could make it, in contrast with the plain white background. 

The teacher was happy. Renjun had been much more focused on his work since Jeno and Jaemin had transferred. He had been an excellent art student before, but now his work was spectacular. Really though, Renjun didn’t care. He was using his art to avoid people. 

**Mid City Gotham: Huang Residence**

Jeno stopped short of knocking on Renjun’s door. He’d tried texting him, and calling. Renjun hadn’t responded to any of it. He didn’t ask if Jaemin had been trying. 

Maybe he should just have left Renjun alone. Things had been tense before the transfer. Basically since he started running around as Sabre. He and Jaemin had hid Sabre from their friend. _For his own protection_ they’d thought. It seemed, though, that they’d messed up big time. 

He hoped that Renjun made other friends. Otherwise, Jeno didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself. Was this how Bruce felt on a regular basis? He hoped not, because Jeno was pretty sure he was making himself miserable.

He never did knock on Renjun’s door.

***

Renjun watched, arms full of laundry, as Jeno turned away from his door. He wasn’t surprised. Jeno and Jaemin had probably only started hanging out with him because Jeno pitied him. There was no reason for them to continue once they left. Renjun didn’t want their pity anyway.

He started folding clothes as soon as he got back inside his apartment. His parents were working late again. He was going to be on his own for dinner again. 

Except, he forgot to eat dinner. After folding his laundry, Renjun started work on a painting for his portfolio. It was a painting of a crow -- photo-realistic as he could make it. 

By the time the Huangs returned, they found their son asleep by his easel, black and blue paint smeared on his cheek. Nian Huang resolved to be home for dinner the next day. They would do her son’s other favorite -- _huo guo_.


	38. Luck Be a Lady Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goldfinch's solo. Lady Luck gave him the brush.

**Downtown Gotham: Valentines’ Day**

Goldfinch stood on the edge of the building, cape billowing in the wind. The grapple gun hung heavy at his side. 

_Alright Haechannie, you can do this. Just center yourself like you have been in the cave for weeks. _

_You’ll never hear the end of it from Minhee if you don’t._

He’d never really wanted to be a vigilante. That ship had sailed though.

With that thought, Haechan disappeared, and the Goldfinch flew over Gotham City for the first time, Robin at his side. 

It was magical, Goldfinch decided. Watching the Gotham skyline streak past, lights and shadows an impressionistic pattern in his vision. Dakota would have been sleepy this time of night. Gotham, by comparison, was a city that never slept, awash in white, yellow, and red. At least in this neighborhood. She was warmer at night than she ever was in the day, all cold stone and gargoyles staring down at him from the roofs. 

Maybe this was why the Bats struggled so hard to protect her. The warm embrace of a Gotham night. Metaphorically speaking of course. The Goldfinch suit had heaters built in for a reason. 

A chorus of screams tore through his revery. On the street ahead of them, a cloud of... something expanded. Goldfinch couldn’t see any criminals associated with it, but plenty of people were running away. Practically stampeding. 

“Goldfinch. Robin. Get to a rooftop. Backup incoming,” Oracle announced over his earpiece. 

If they needed backup, that meant it wasn’t just an accident or a criminal. It was an Arkham escapee or a major crime lord. Goldfinch was willing to bet on the former. He and Robin stopped on the next rooftop.

“Unlucky,” Robin said. 

“What’s the worst that could happen, right? Oh wait. Arkham escapee,” Goldfinch drawled. 

“Scarecrow, specifically.” Goldfinch about fell off the rooftop when Batman spoke behind him. 

“Fan-ta-stic,” Goldfinch said as he got his bearings. “So what’s the plan?”

“Plan? We swoop in, gas masks on, and hope for the best,” Red Robin said as he swooped in from another rooftop. “Well, Batman and I will. Goldfinch and Robin, you’re on ‘Keep Red Hood away from the gas cloud’ duty. Normally that’s Nightwing’s job, but he’s tied up in Bludhaven right now.”

Right. Keep Red Hood away from the gas cloud. How hard could it be? 

***

Goldfinch was getting real tired of dodging bullets. Red Hood hadn’t said anything when he and Robin dropped down in front of him. No, instead he jumped right to the shooting. Of course, it was just him. His friends were nowhere in sight.

Hood probably snuck away from them. What bone did he have to pick with Scarecrow though? Goldfinch would understand if it was the Joker, or Black Mask, or Ra’s. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t any of them. 

**_Bang!_**

And he was _really_ tired of getting shot at.

“Would you cut it out already, Hood?” Goldfinch yelled. They’d tried talking to him through the coms earlier. It became clear pretty quick, Red Hood wasn’t wearing one. 

“Goldfinch, I don’t think that’s helping,” Robin said, dropping and rolling to get closer.

Another bullet zinged by Goldfinch’s head. He ripped his gas mask off. “You listen to me, Hood. I’m sick of having to dodge bullets. You’re not going in there, because you get more dangerous than usual on fear gas. And I know you don’t want to go after civilians in an altered mental state. You’d never forgive yourself.”

“Who says I’ll go after civvies?” Red Hood yelled back, shot ricocheting off Robin’s metal-plated shoe. “Scarecrow. Is. Mine.”

Each word was punctuated with a shot. They ended abruptly as Batman swung overhead, carrying a bound up Scarecrow with him, followed closely by a gliding Red Robin. 

“Uh Goldfinch…” Robin wasn’t looking at him, or Red Hood though. He was looking over the top of Goldfinch’s head. “You might want to put the mask back on.”

By the time Goldfinch registered what he said, it was too late. The cloud had rolled over his shoulders and around his sides. The cloyingly sweet scent of rotting flowers filled his nose. Goldfinch held his breath and fired a grapple toward the nearest building. His aim was slightly off, but the hook latched and he was able to swing his way out of the cloud.

His lungs were burning as he swung, still holding his breath. His heart was pounding. He couldn’t think of why. There was nothing to be scared of. Scarecrow was caught. The area was cordoned off by roadblocks. Emergency services were working on subduing the chaos. Everything was going how it should be.

Except, he had already inhaled some of the fear gas. He was still in the cloud. The noxious, floral scent was still in his nose.

“Haechan!”

And for some reason, Minhee’s voice was in his earpiece.


	39. I Respect the Mind’s Power Over the Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goldfinch's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad first day on the job continues.

**Downtown Gotham: Red Robin’s Safehouse**

Tim had watched as Goldfinch was engulfed in the slowly dissipating cloud of fear gas. He’d taken his mask off to get through to Jason. It probably would have worked too, if the cloud hadn’t overcome him as quickly as it did. 

As he thought over those events, Tim popped a new filter into his mask and restocked his belt. Goldfinch was going to need their antitoxin. Tim just hoped that he wasn’t completely having a meltdown. It was hard enough to deal with when one of the other members of the family had a break. Goldfinch though, was telekinetic. If Tim didn’t go about this right, or Goldfinch inhaled too much, Tim was likely to go through a wall. At least.

He decided not to contemplate a disaster-level meltdown. Instead, he put his mask back on, locator beacon blinking on the heads up display, and hopped out the window.

***

Goldfinch was compromised. He knew this because Minhee should not have been standing in front of him. She was home. He had told her what he was doing that night. She would have stayed home.

So why did she seem so real? 

His vision swam as he stumbled across the rooftop. He hadn’t made it out of the cloud -- gave up on holding his breath. 

“Minhee?” he wheezed. “You should -_cough_\- go home.” 

“No way am I leaving you alone Haechannie. You’re sick,” Minhee said.

“I’m -_cough_\- not sick-” Goldfinch started to defend himself before his vision swam again.

He stood unsteady on the rooftop. “It’s dangerous here. How-_cough_\- how do you not realize that?”

Minhee frowned at him. Of course she was disappointed again. She started walking toward him. 

“I’m going to bring you home. You shouldn’t be out here alone,” she said.

The smell hit him again then -- cloyingly sweet rotting flowers. Fear gas. Shit.

“Minhee, you need to get away from me. I’ve been working on control, but I don’t know-”

“You know what, Haechan. No. I’m not going to run away while you play martyr. This isn’t like you. None of this.” She stood over him then, arms crossed. “You’re coming with me.”

“I can’t. I’m compromised. I’ll- I’ll hurt you Minhee. If I lose control-”

There was a thunk on the rooftop behind Goldfinch. He startled, heart jumping into his throat. Minhee’s eyes went wide as she flew back, limp as a rag doll.

Goldfinch screamed.

***

Goldfinch sank to the roof after letting loose the most horrifying scream Red Robin had heard from any Gotham vigilante. He was sobbing, choking on mucus and fear gas. Red Robin had no idea what Goldfinch saw. It didn’t matter at this point though. What did was that Red Robin needed to avoid a fight with Goldfinch. 

Red Robin froze as Goldfinch turned around, still on his knees. He coughed. “Send me -_hic_\- send me to STAR Labs.”

What?

“Goldfinch, I need you to even out your breathing. I don’t know what you saw-” Red Robin held his hands up in front of him defensively. 

“No… not you too.” Goldfinch scrambled back on the roof. “I can’t be here. You can’t be around me right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Goldfinch, slow down. Focus on your breathing. I’m going to come put a gas mask on you so you don’t keep breathing in the gas.”

“Get back-”

“Gold-”

“Get back before I accidentally kill you too!”

Oh. Oh this was bad. That scream -- he thought he’d killed someone. And now he was panicking. Red Robin sighed. Hopefully this time the tranquilizer would hit.

“You’re not going to kill me Goldfinch. You’ve got better control of yourself than you realize,” Red Robin said as he slowly moved toward Goldfinch. The tranquilizer was in one hand, the mask in the other.

“No no no no…” Goldfinch kept repeating as Red Robin moved closer. He was backed up to the edge of the roof. Red Robin felt bad for cornering him, but the more toxin was in his system, the worse it was going to be for him. They couldn’t run around all night.

Goldfinch made to jump off the roof, pawing at his utility belt where the grapple gun normally hung. Before he could, he found himself wrapped up in Robin’s arms. 

“Don’t crush him, Rob,” Red Robin said as he finally got within range to put the gas mask on.

“Don’t think I could if I tried.” Robin stabbed Goldfinch with a dart as soon as his mask was on. 

Haechan really did have the worst luck.


	40. With All the Force of a Great Typhoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions ease as Haechan comes down, featuring a cameo from Central City.

**The Batcave**

Tim watched Haechan twitch in his sleep, tablet abandoned in his lap. Cold cases could wait for now. Haechan was the more pressing puzzle.

_Get back before I accidentally kill you too! _He’d said. Tim knew Haechan didn’t really want to hurt anyone, even in his bouts of temper. Usually he was able to control it, turn it into some sort of acerbic comment, maybe with a bit of telekinetic rattling. He had to admit though, before tonight, he’d never really seen Haechan scared. 

Who was it that he thought he’d killed? Someone close to him, probably. Maybe one of the Family? Tim pulled up Haechan’s file to see who he was closest too.

Jaemin and Jeno were in his class at school, but he didn’t seem to spend very much time with them outside of the cave. Jisung and Chenle were more likely, but he never seemed very close to them. And he definitely wasn’t seeing Dick, Jason, or himself. There was a distinct level of animosity towards them. Maybe Cass? No… she only got close to people who actually lived here.

He scanned through the file some more as Haechan whimpered. 

Of course! Haechan wasn’t like most of the bats. He still had a family outside of them. There were his parents -- could have been either of them. 

Then he saw it. The only person it could have been to garner such an extreme response. Tim couldn’t believe he had forgotten Haechan had a twin sister. One from whom he held _no_ secrets. Tim couldn’t even imagine how painful that must have been. 

He was going to need to get Dick down there, or do it himself. When Haechan woke up, he was going to need someone to comfort him. Probably with contact.

Tim couldn’t say he was looking forward to that at all.

**Central City**

“Oh Fu-” Kid Flash yelled before his face met a street sign at supersonic speeds. The resounding _clang_, and the yellow blur resolving into a sturdy-built teenager nearly brought traffic at that intersection to a stop. Beside him, a red blur resolved into the Flash.

“KF, you know you need to pay attention to where you’re running.” The Flash shook his head. 

“Yeah, I know. I was trying to avoid the mailbox and ended up in the air…” Kid Flash hunched. Whether he was just sheepish, or actually embarrassed, Flash wasn’t sure.

Flash put his hand on Kid Flash’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “it’s ok. It happens to all of us speedsters. Besides, you’ve been training for what? A month and a half?”

“Yeah, I guess, but like, y’know… I feel like I should be measuring up to Impulse. Actually, like, I should be that kind of support.” The filler words were out in force tonight. Flash was certain it was related to the kid’s anxiety, but really it could have easily been about trying to slow down. Or avoid expletives. They were still working on that one.

“You are doing remarkably well for a new speedster, never mind a new Kid Flash. Heck, I think you’re doing better than I was a month and a half in.” Flash smiled.

Kid Flash smiled back, orange lightning arcing up his arm. “If you say so,” he said. “I think… I think I might be ready to dodge some more sh-junk.”

**Batcave**

When Haechan did finally wake up, he jolted Tim awake as well. Not with a scream, but with a knock to the head. 

Tim had to hold back from screaming himself. That hit hurt probably more than it should have. He could feel the headache brewing.

“Where? What? Tim?” Haechan was understandably disoriented. It was a common symptom coming down from Fear. Tim could hear the residual panic in his voice, but he was far more lucid now, which was definitely a good thing.

“You got dosed last night,” Tim explained. “We brought Scarecrow in, but you got caught in the cloud without your mask on. I had to sedate you to get you back to the cave.”

Haechan looked right through him, eyes wide. Tim noticed there was a piece of black glitter on his nose. Wondered if that was a regular problem, and how they could fix it. Wondered if Haechan even cared. There were other small details as well. A nest of hair that was usually playfully tousled. Flushed cheeks and ears. The cuff he wore on his comms ear was gone. He wondered when that had fallen off.

“Tim, why did I need to be sedated?” Haechan asked, still looking through him.

“Um… why don’t we talk about that after you come down the rest of the way?” Tim suggested.

“Tim,” Haechan growled. Now he was looking at him. 

“Look. It was bad. I don’t want you to have a panic attack because I told you something while you still were feeling lingering effects of Fear. You don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that. The others certainly don’t deserve that.” Tim gave him the flattest look he could manage. He had a sneaking suspicion that it looked more worn out than deadpan, but that would probably work too.

Haechan was silent for a moment. “Am I the only one that got dosed?”

“Of us, yeah,” Tim replied. “There are plenty of civilians at the hospital right now though, riding out the effects themselves.”

Haechan scoffed. “That’s it, I’ve decided. Scarecrow is my least favorite rogue.”

At that, and the pout Haechan was sporting afterwards, Tim couldn’t help but laugh.


	41. If Memories Could Be Canned, Would They Also Have Expiry Dates?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way to Renjun's heart is definitely through food. (And definitely not through poorly hidden pity.)

**Mid City Gotham: Huang Residence**

Renjun was out on the porch again that night, painting. This time, he faced outward. His subject was the city skyline, or at least as much as was visible from his balcony. On the table beside him rested his oil paints, several brushes, and the egg tart his mother had brought him after dinner. Painting the city was her idea. She thought it might help.

He hadn’t seen Jeno since the incident at the door. He’d been waiting for a notification from him or Jaemin -- one to add to the unread notifications from Jeno, and the first from Jaemin. He didn’t want to talk to them though. They’d abandoned him. He didn’t need them.

He picked up a mid sized brush and used it to mix some almost limoncello yellow. Gotham at night was recognizable, but not nearly so much so without the famed Bat-signal. And this was the cityscape at night. He would be remiss to leave it out. 

While the yellow of the light dried, Renjun decided it was probably time to eat his egg tart. His lips quirked up at the flavor. Egg tart wasn’t a family recipe, not like the bao, but his mom’s cooking was just as good when adapting other regional foods. Each one she added to the family recipe book -- a three ring binder that lived in the kitchen for longer than Renjun could remember. 

Recently, there had been some western recipes added as well -- mostly baked goods his mom experimented with on her days off. The only one that hadn’t made it into the book so far was the fruit cake from Christmas. After a falling candle lit the cake on fire and nearly burned down the kitchen, they had collectively decided that foods drenched in brandy were out of the question. 

Renjun was pretty sure he didn’t like fruitcake anyway. No real loss there.

He took another bite of the egg tart and picked up the brush that was already doused in black. In the center of the signal-light, he drew a bat. Really it was more of a gesture of a bat. He’d drawn bats before, both photorealistic and cartoonish. Neither version was even close to the simplicity of the Bat-signal. 

Renjun added some figures running over the rooftops in silhouette before deciding he was finished and bringing everything inside. Despite taking a shower right afterward, he would still find splotches of limoncello paint in his hair the next day. 

**Gotham High School**

Renjun had his sketchbook out at the lunch table, reheated lunch beside it. His mom had packed a real treat. She’d been making _bao_ more often, but this was the first time since their move that she had even tried to make _xiao long bao_. Upon opening his lunch that day, Renjun had taken great care with the soup filled dumplings. To lose the soup would be the greatest disappointment of the day. Renjun wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for something like that.

Of course, they were delicious. There wasn’t anything quite like a _xiao long bao_, and Renjun had yet to find one of equal caliber to his mother’s.

In his sketch pad, Renjun began to sketch a _bao_ on a spoon, surrounded by soup. It was a simple design, believable, recognizable, but not realistic by any stretch of the imagination. Especially after he gave it eyes and a small smile. 

His own smile fell as a hand appeared next to his lunchbox. A girl from his class simpered behind him. About how cute the drawing was. About whether he would like some company. About how he seemed so lonely over here.

There it was: the pity. It made his stomach feel like fire, and his heart like ice. He didn’t need pity from these fools in love with a city that had no rules. He didn’t need friends in a place he was just going to leave in a year and a half anyway. Renjun’s thoughts spiraled as the girl moved to sit down.

He slammed his pencil down on the table so hard it snapped in half. He stood up, all the warm contentment from the _xiao long bao_ gone. He scooped up his sketchbook, and his lunch, spilled half his water bottle on the girl’s skirt, and stalked out of the lunchroom. 

He would later swear the water was an accident. Internally he wasn’t so sure.

**Mid City Gotham: Huang Residence**

Nian Huang watched as her son typed furiously on his computer. She and her husband knew he was going through a rough patch with his friends, but she had a feeling they had no idea how bad it was. Still, Junie wasn’t going to talk to them if they forced it. They’d have to wait for him to be ready. 

In the meantime, she resolved to make all her son’s favorite recipes, working through her book from front to back. Tonight, she was going to make a recipe passed down from her own mother, back in China. Black Sesame Balls. It seemed appropriate, given her son’s black mood. 

Maybe they should give up the contract, move back to San Francisco. She shook her head. The Huangs would never let themselves leave a job half finished. She was sure Junie understood. And she understood that Gotham wasn’t the safest or happiest city in the US, but it was an opportunity, and the largest contract they had ever received. 

Nian sighed. Renjun would be alright. They would finish the contract with the city, and then they could go back to San Francisco to do their original art. Renjun was already querying art schools in Northern California. She could only hope he knew how proud they were. 


	42. Woah, This Is Heavy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goldfinch investigates the new Kid Flash. Meanwhile, Mark angsts over meeting the Batman.

**Batwing: Coming Into Central City**

Goldfinch had a feeling that Batman knew he was there. He couldn’t bring himself to care though. Central City was close enough to Dakota that he could make up the difference himself.

It had been nearly a month since the incident with Scarecrow. Really, he was fine. Hadn’t even shaken pencils in that entire time. Not to mention that trying to operate in Gotham was stifling. 

Then there was that shadow following him too. He’d basically confirmed it wasn’t a hallucination at this point. 

He was getting off track now though. He should have been focusing on how to avoid-

“Goldfinch, I know you’re back there.”

Well… there went that idea. He should have known he couldn’t hide in his suit. Besides being bright yellow, there was the added bulk. And the lifts… maybe he hadn’t thought this through all the way.

Goldfinch stood up, staring straight into the lenses of Batman’s cowl. It was the closest he could come to direct eye contact. 

“Why did you stow away? You’re supposed to be on patrol tonight.” Batman didn’t sound upset so much as… exasperated? Almost like this was a normal occurance for him. 

“I traded with Sabre. He’s got a lead he’s working on with Z and Black Bat.” He didn’t add _and you were getting close to Dakota._

“And this was as close to your hometown as you’ve been in a while, right?” Batman was … it almost seemed like he was smirking. Goldfinch drew back a bit at that.

How could he possibly have known?

“Well, it’s probably a good thing you’re here anyway. I was going to bring Robin, but he has volunteer hours tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, you need help on this one?” Goldfinch asked. He couldn’t believe it. _The Batman_ actually needed help.

“Not exactly,” Batman said, tossing a folder to him. “Before you meet him, it might be worthwhile to do some research on the Flash’s new partner.”

Oh… he’d heard about that from Tim. Something about Kid Flash changing his name to Impulse when some dope got himself electrocuted. Goldfinch opened the folder. The person in the photo couldn’t seriously have taken the name _Kid Flash_. He had to have been at least twenty, right? 

After scanning the file twice, Goldfinch decided there wasn’t really enough information there. “No word on the guy’s identity?” he asked.

“That was going to be Robin’s mission. Now it is yours,” Batman instructed.

The _before you meet him in person_ was implicit.

**Central City: Lee Residence**

Mark Lee could tell that someone was watching him. He wasn’t sure how, but the feeling was there. 

Even after he closed the curtains on his room, the feeling didn’t go away. In his nervousness, Mark did his homework faster than he ever had before. He’d go out later with the Flash. Batman was coming to help them on a case. It was going to be fun, right?

Oh fuck no. It was going to be terrifying. The last hero Mark had met was Wonder Woman, and he was still reeling from that. To meet the Dark Knight himself, and the red and green ghost that followed him? Even the idea of it threatened to make him vibrate right through his chair. 

Too soon, his homework was done and all he could think about was his impending doom. 

“I’m not gonna survive this. I’m gonna fuckin’ die…” he muttered as he paced around the room, trying not to tap into the speedforce. 

“Nah, I can do this,” he tried to convince himself. “I’m Kid Flash. It might be a long ass ride, but I’ll live. Maybe he’ll be like WW and think I’m cute.” 

Mark shuddered at the thought. “On second thought, I don’t want Batman to think I’m cute. That would just be hella weird.”

**Central City: Outside the Lee Residence**

Goldfinch couldn’t say that _this_ was what he was expecting at all. Kid Flash was Mark Lee, a senior at Central City High School waiting on music school acceptances. According to his school files, Mark was a straight A student. He only ever got in trouble for breaking things accidentally. Since December he’d been excused from doing lab work in his chemistry class. A spilled titration and broken flask being cited as evidence that he was a danger to himself, if not others as well. 

Mark Lee was not what he would call _Prime Flash Material_. Apparently Mr. Allen saw something in him though, because Mark Lee, random kid from Central City, had taken up the mantle of Kid Flash after having a few days of severe anxiety.

Really, Goldfinch couldn’t blame him for that. He’d saged his entire house the morning he woke up with floating objects in his room. And he could see how speed would be disorienting if you didn’t realize that was what was going on, but come on. The guy was nearly vibrating out of his own skin in nervousness. 

“Hey Bats,” Goldfinch called across the Batwing when he got back from his observation. “I got your answer.”

“Report, Goldfinch.” Batman stood up out of his pilot’s chair. He never snuck up on Goldfinch. 

“Well, I’ve got all my notes written down here. They should match the ones Red Robin told me you hid on the Bat-computer.” Goldfinch was still miffed about that. Batman had given him busywork of all things. He expected that from teachers at school, not from his mentor.

He hadn’t sent him back though, so there was still a chance he could get away to Dakota.

In the back of his mind, Goldfinch started scheming.


	43. Where We’re Going, We Don’t Need Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting of Kid Flash and the Goldfinch. Or: In which Kid Flash is too innocent for his own good.

**Central City**

When Goldfinch first saw Kid Flash close up, his first thought was_ wait… isn’t he a runner? _ In his perception, runners were thin, long limbed little things. Impulse sure was, as was the Flash himself. Mark Lee decidedly did _not_ fit this image of a runner. 

You’d think, being around superheroes as much as he was, particularly the ones he was, Goldfinch would be used to seeing young men with well defined musculature. Even so, he was struck by just how _built_ this Kid Flash was. He was glad the lenses in his mask were opaque. Kid Flash surely would have caught him staring otherwise.

He definitely caught Goldfinch smirking though. He jumped back like an inch. He’d been visibly vibrating since the Flashes had shown up at the landing spot, before he and Batman melted out of the shadows. 

Red Robin was pretty, but pretty much unflappable. Kid Flash, on the other hand, Goldfinch could royally mess with. This was going to be fun.

“I thought we were going to meet the new Robin today,” Flash pouted. Goldfinch stifled a snicker.

“He has other engagements,” Batman said. Goldfinch still wasn’t sure how he could maintain that level of vocal fry. It must have been murder on his vocal chords.

Maybe his evening tea was echinacea…

“Then who’s this kid?” The Flash gestured to Goldfinch then. Goldfinch frowned. He didn’t like being talked about like an accessory.

Before Batman could answer, Goldfinch did. “I’m Goldfinch. One of _many_ new kids. Any more questions regarding me, you can direct to, well, me.” He finished with a cold smile. Sabre said it reminded him too much of some of their rogues. Goldfinch found it useful for intimidation. 

“It’s, like, It’s nice to meet you, Goldfinch. I’m Kid Flash, and that’s my mentor. You… actually, you probably already, like, knew that,” Kid Flash said, holding out his hand. 

Goldfinch shook it. “Huh. You’re less timid than I thought.”

Kid Flash stilled and scowled. “What the actual fuck is that supposed to mean?” Oh wow. Vehemence. Goldfinch’s cold smile grew wider.

“It means,” Goldfinch started, leaning in to whisper in Kid Flash’s ear, still gripping his hand, “I like you.”

Goldfinch laughed as Kid Flash started vibrating so hard he could have been short circuiting. This was going to be so much fun.

***

This Goldfinch character was something else. Really, Kid Flash was almost more scared of him than of the Batman. That cackle gave him shivers like you wouldn’t believe.

He tried to control his vibrating as the Flash and Batman sent them off. Apparently Batman _had_ actually come on League business. They left the kids alone.

“So,” Goldfinch said, startling Kid Flash, “how much can you lift?”

“Uh… Like…”

“Don’t go thinking too hard there Kid. It’s just a number.” Goldfinch was laughing at him again, Kid Flash could just tell.

“I dunno… Like, I never actually measured it. Just kinda do work around the house. Some heavy lifting in other places.” Why was that the first question? Was he assessing weaknesses or something? Impulse had said that was something Bats tended to do. Was he going to end up with a plan to get rid of him? 

“More importantly, do you think you could lift me? For a while.” Man those white out lenses were disconcerting. Kid Flash was pretty sure that Goldfinch was looking at him, but 97% certainty was never enough with night-stalking vigilantes. 

“Yeah probably.” He took a better look at the rest of Goldfinch then. “Woah… maybe not. You’re bigger than I thought.”

Goldfinch was taller than Kid Flash, and looked like he probably had thirty pounds on him, and Kid Flash didn’t exactly consider himself small. From what he understood, that made sense for a Bat, but still, it was a lot.(1)

“Why don’t you give it a try anyway? We can’t exactly run to Dakota City side by each now can we?” Goldfinch pouted at him. Like, actually pouted. Was he trying to be cute? Was that acceptable for a Bat?

Wait. Dakota City? “You want to run to Dakota City?”

***

Running at Flash speeds was entirely too much fun. Goldfinch restrained a woop as they flew over a tributary at supersonic speeds. 

Kid Flash was piggybacking him to Dakota. He was going home! It would have to be a short visit, but at this point, Goldfinch was longing for even a taste of the familiar. It had been months since they moved to Gotham, and of course there was never any news about Dakota there. Yeah, Kelcey texted him about cheer team goings on, but that wasn’t the same. 

As they entered the city, Goldfinch relaxed. He was home, everything was alright.

Except… why were the streetlights so dim, and getting dimmer? Something was wrong.

As soon as that thought registered, Kid Flash tripped on something, and Goldfinch was flying without a net.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) See Round of Robins Chapter 42


	44. Is Anybody In There?  Think, KF. Think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He may have only just met Goldfinch, but there's no way Mark's going to let him get hurt.

**Dakota City**

The only thought Kid Flash had time for before he hit the leg resolving out of the shadows was _oh Fuck!_ He really hoped he hadn’t said it out loud. The Flash said he was supposed to be working on that. 

The shame didn’t hit until later though. In the moment, he had his thought, and then he tripped on a shadow that was way more solid than it should have been, and he and Goldfinch were careening into a cinderblock wall just shy of the speed of sound. It was, to put it lightly, bad.

Kid Flash knew he could take the hit -- something about the speed force making you more durable for those types of accidents -- but Bats were human, and Goldfinch was going to hit the wall first. He twisted just enough to get traction, and took off to put himself between Finch and the wall. The wind went out of him as Goldfinch hit him square in the chest, knocking him off his feet again. At least this time he was going to hit the wall first. 

There was a _crash_ as they hit the wall that muffled Kid Flash’s scream. Something snapped on impact and his pain tolerance wasn’t nearly high enough for that. He tried to cough through the cinder block dust, but coughing was followed by more screaming. He needed to tamp that down. Goldfinch needed him. He needed to make sure Goldfinch, as the squishier teammate, was ok.

“Finch? Hey, Finch, you ok?” he asked. He couldn’t keep the pain from his voice. 

“Whadder you asking me that for, you self-sacrificial idiot?” Goldfinch replied. 

Kid Flash tried to laugh, but winced instead. Whatever had happened seemed to be healing fine, so there was nothing to worry about, right? “Well, I’ve got the speedforce on my side. I’ll be -” he winced again, “fine. Seriously though, you hurt?”

“No, but somebody’s going to be,” Goldfinch growled. 

It took Kid Flash a moment to look at the same place Goldfinch was looking. Then a bit longer to see the shape of a person there. He tried to stand up, to move in front of Goldfinch, but Goldfinch pushed him down. 

“So what are two little metas doing in my city?” The person… was it actually a person? asked.

“There’s _one_ metahuman and _one_ bird in Dakota because _I_ felt like visiting,” Goldfinch said, laying on the sass. That was a Bat thing, right? At least, for everyone but the actual Bat-named ones…

Kid Flash got up then, standing beside Goldfinch. “And Flash Fact: a city belongs to all of her citizens, not just one. If she did, she would be a fiefdom instead, but that’s not how the US works.” He smiled. Impulse would be proud of that one.

“Wow, vehemence _and_ political philosophy? I’m liking you more and more KF,” Goldfinch teased before turning back to the shadow. 

“I have a suspicion,” the shadow said, almost gleefully. Kid Flash could feel the tremors starting in his legs. “There was a kid from Dakota High who lived close to the warehouse district. He moved to Gotham just a bit ago. Maybe he’s trying to fit in. _Trying so hard_ to be a hero, when he knows full well he belongs with his own kind.”

Kid Flash was probably full on vibrating then, but not out of anxiety this time. What the shadow implied -- he didn’t consider Goldfinch to be human, or Kid Flash, for that matter. Kid Flash hadn’t been angry in a long time. Upset, sure. Frustrated, definitely. But this time? This time there was rage simmering in his gut, vibrating him out of his shoes. Any faster and the lightning would start crackling. 

The shadow continued as Kid Flash boiled. Goldfinch had a hand behind his back now. Maybe he had more of a plan than _ram this guy into next week. _

“I would extend the invitation to both of you, but I’m sure the speedy one is too much of a goody-two-shoes to join up. What do you say, Goldfinch, was it? Join the Metabreed. Be with your people,” he said. “Name’s Ebon, by the way.”

“Hm, let me think about that. How about _no_.” As Goldfinch finished, he reached into his belt and threw a batarang at Ebon. 

As it flew, though, Ebon melted and re-formed closer to them. He wasn’t just in shadow! Ebon was actually a _living_ shadow. 

“Oh fuck,” Kid Flash said before he scooped up Goldfinch and zipped away.


	45. Make Like a Tree and Get Outa Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goldfinch has another run in with a villain. This time, though, he's got his new lightning-fast speedster buddy as backup.

**Dakota City**

“Kid Flash put me down right now or so help me I will fill your room with yellow and black glitter,” Goldfinch shouted. Sure, he was hiding his powers, but that didn’t mean he was made of glass. 

Kid Flash slowed down to release him. _Good._ Then, a shadowy tendril came out of nowhere, wrapped around Kid Flash’s leg, and threw him into another wall. _ Not so good._ He reached for his belt, not sure what would help against an inky blob like Ebon. Maybe liquid nitrogen capsules? But that was too dangerous if his body wasn’t actually ink or gel, and Kid Flash could become collateral damage. 

Maybe he could try something more head-on? At least throw him off until they could figure out a better solution. 

With that thought, Goldfinch held up his gauntlets in front of him, and rushed. He gave a battle cry for good measure. Ebon, however, seemed unaffected. He wrapped up Goldfinch’s arms in another tendril, lifting him off the ground in the process.

Goldfinch’s shoulders were screaming at him, being suspended from his wrists. There was no sign of Kid Flash -- not even a streak of yellow costume on his periphery. 

“Why aren’t you using your gift? I know you have one, and yet, you fight like one of _them_,” Ebon spat. 

“I don’t know what you think I am, but I am _nothing_ like you,” Goldfinch fired back. “I’m Goldfinch, the newest member of the Bat-clan. We do good. We _protect_ people from monsters like you.”

Ebon picked him up higher, tendril wrapping tighter, over more of his arms. Still Goldfinch continued. “And you know, you’re not a monster because of your gift. You’re a monster because of what you do to people. _Innocent_ people.”

Before Ebon could respond, lightning crackled on the edge of Goldfinch’s vision. “Am I going to -”

The thought was cut off by a blur of yellow rushing between where he was hanging, and Ebon’s… body. The blur then went straight up the wall beside them, yellow lightning arcing off it in all directions. Kid Flash was ok -- evidently more than ok. Goldfinch really wasn’t sure how running really fast was going to help them, but it seemed like Kid Flash at least had a plan.

Then, he looked closer at the arcs. Speedforce lightning didn’t act like regular lightning, that he knew, but it still gave off light. And that light was pushing back Ebon’s shadow! They wouldn’t be able to take Ebon in that day, but if Goldfinch could get one arm free, they might have a chance to escape back to Central. 

“KF, little help?” He shouted. He braced himself for the fall, smirking as he felt the whoosh as Kid Flash raced up behind him, landing squarely with all of his lightning on the tendril. 

“How can I-” his sentence was choked off by a scream as they both fell. 

Goldfinch reached into his belt, feeling for something, anything that would produce light. The first thing he grabbed was an emergency flare. It was going to have to do. Maybe it would have the side effect of calling Static to finish off the fight. 

“KF, scoop me up when I say now,” Goldfinch said, ready to pop the flare and toss it.

“What? Do you have some plan you’re not-”

“NOW!” 

They were gone before the flare hit the ground. Goldfinch would be seeing afterimages for a while, but they were safe and on their way back to Central. He was going to have to work light into his suit somehow after this.

Haechan Lee really did have the worst luck.


	46. I want to play a game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Gotham Academy on lockdown, Renjun is fully prepared to do whatever it takes to keep his classmates alive. Unfortunately, when the Joker's involved, things are never quite so simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys.
> 
> Normally we don't do notes like this, but this chapter gets a bit more intense than what we normally go for in this, so...
> 
> **Content Warning:** This chapter contains a murder. It's not graphic, but it is there. If you're not in a good place for that right now, we completely understand if you don't read. Please prioritize your mental health over our fanfiction.

**Gotham High**

Renjun huddled with his class in a darkened corner of the classroom, shivering. Light filtered into the room through minute cracks between the blinds, glinting off the legs of the desks. Even the curtain on the door had been drawn. The school was on lockdown because of an attack in the area. Because Gotham was an awful city with no rhyme or reason to anything.

One of his classmates whimpered quietly beside him. Renjun exhaled. He wasn’t the only one who was scared, but it was clear his classmates were going to crumble as soon as they were immediately in danger. It would be up to him to defend them, as apparently the only student not completely paralyzed by fear. How they could live in this city and _not_ be completely desensitized was beyond him, yet here he was.

If someone entered the classroom, his plan was simple: blind the assailant with the fire extinguisher and let the teacher get his classmates out. He had to hope the teacher went along with him. There hadn’t been time to talk it over.

He shivered again as a shadow passed the outside window.

They all held their breath as the situation evolved outside.

**Gotham Academy**

Jaemin had to hold Jeno back as they got the notification. There was an evolving situation outside of Gotham High. The Joker had taken a museum annex hostage, with all of the workers inside. His goons had taken the high school. Renjun’s school was in lockdown, under threat from the most unpredictable force in Gotham, and there was _nothing_ Jeno could do to help. 

He should have been there. He should have insisted it would be better for him to be at Gotham High. He could protect the students there. He could be using his skills as a fencer and a Bat to save the kids’ -- his former classmates’ -- lives. Instead he was stuck useless at a fancy prep school where half the student population was _laughing._

Jaemin tried to assure him. Batman and Red Robin would be on the scene soon. Maybe Red Hood too. He wouldn’t let kids get killed by the Joker.

And while all of that was true, Jeno still felt the fires of doubt in his gut. He was having a feeling again, and that scared him more than anything.

**Gotham Museum of Art: Byzantine Art Annex**

Mr. Huang had managed to sneak eleven of their coworkers out of the building so far. He and Mrs. Huang were the last ones left. The Joker’s men had cut power to the building, shutting off the security cameras as well as darkening the space. As much as it worked to instil fear and chaos in the reconstruction crew, Mr. Huang worked out a way to use it to their advantage.

There were surprisingly few guards around. Really, Mr. Huang should have been suspicious of how easy it was. He should have known that the Byzantine Art Annex wasn’t the only target. The Joker always made people choose -- made the Batman choose.

He knew he’d made a mistake when he heard the shot. His knee crumpled. His luck had run out.

As he turned over and found the barrel of a gun in his face, the malicious, grinning visage of the Joker immediately behind it, he prayed his wife had escaped. He prayed that Renjun would understand.

There was a laugh, a _bang_, and Mr. Huang prayed no more.

**Gotham High**

Renjun was shivering harder now. They’d been huddled in the corner for so long he couldn’t feel his feet anymore. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to execute his plan.

No. He couldn’t panic. That’s what the men outside wanted. He refused to descend into that kind of chaos.

To keep himself calm, he thought about how, in two weeks, he’d be seventeen. He would ask his mom about what she had planned for that when he got home. Maybe he’d ask to invite Jeno and Jaemin over for hot pot. He could help her make dessert too. They had an orange-chocolate mousse recipe they’d been wanting to try. This would be the perfect opportunity. His dad would love it too.

Renjun set his determination then. He would make it out of this.

**Gotham Academy**

Everyone was watching the live stream that study hall. Jeno, Jaemin, and Haechan were huddled around Jeno’s phone, watching as the Bats beat their way through Joker’s goons. Red Robin had been sent to the high school, while Batman took the museum. It looked like Red Robin had help in the shadows -- Black Bat must have been diverted from her investigation into the Golden Dragons.

Jeno gripped the desk with white knuckles. The Joker was at the museum, he just knew it, and Batman had no backup.

The news anchor was reporting that most of the worker-hostages had been evacuated by someone on the inside. That was helpful.

Jaemin’s grip on his shoulder tightened painfully when the anchor announced that the only hostages unaccounted for were Nian Huang and her husband.

Once again, Jeno wished he was there to help.

**Gotham Museum of Art: Byzantine Annex**

Nian Huang tried not to scream when the Joker executed her husband. Where was the Batman? Or the GCPD? This wasn’t supposed to happen to them.

The Joker was laughing, a long, low chuckle rather than the high, wheezing giggle he was known for. The predatory nature made her heart skip a beat. She shrank further into her hiding place, still trying to keep him in her sights.

“I know you’re still here, sweetheart,” he said, still straddling her husband. “Why don’t you come out to play? I just want to play a game with you.”

Nian swallowed and tried to shrink yet further into the shadows.

“No? Well maybe I need to signal my clowns over at the high school. I’m sure we could have lots of fun with some scared teenagers. They try so hard to pretend they’re not afraid, but you know what I’ve found?” He licked his lips, smearing the red pigment up his lip. “That just makes the moment they break all the _sweeter_.”

He had men at the high school? That’s where her baby was! Junnie was in danger. Oh God. She- she couldn’t let him have his way with her son.

Nian emerged from behind the statue then. She would hold his attention until the Batman got there. That should keep his hands off her son.

“Oh look at you,” the Joker chuckled. “Trying to be brave for the widdle teenies. How _cute_.”

He got up then, dropping the gun and reaching into his jacket.

“You know,” he said. Nian flinched. “You know, your husband really threw a wrench in my plans for today. I was gonna make Batsy choose between you all and the teenies. Instead, I had to make you choose, and I have to say-”

He was in front of her, a knife held to her face, hand on the back of her neck.

“I’m disappointed.”


	47. Crying is a Natural Response to Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath part 1

**GCPD Major Crimes Unit**

Renjun Huang didn’t care anymore, who saw him. He sobbed openly on the detective’s desk. His chest hurt, a physical ache. His phone was vibrating almost continuously at this point. He was tempted to turn it off, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

The television in the corner of the station kept showing _that image_. Before the Batman had even gotten close to them, the Joker had shot his father and…

And crucified his mother over the painting of the Virgin Mary she had been restoring. Apparently, he thought it was _funny_.

She’d been alive when Batman found her, but the police said she flatlined before she got to the hospital. They told him she’d been smiling softly, not like she’d been Jokerized, as she faded. Like that would make him feel better.

And now, here he was, sitting in a police station. The detective had told him his parents were heroes. They saved a lot of people. That didn’t matter though, if they couldn’t save themselves.

Why? Why did they do it? Neither of them were self-sacrificial idiots. What made them decide to be heroes -- to get themselves killed?

_Why were you doing it, Junnie?_ The voice in his head sounded like his mother.

He did it because he was the only one who could. The only one who wasn’t paralyzed by fear.

The rage bubbled up inside him as he mentally defended himself. His parents should never have been in a position where they had to protect other people. _He_ should never have been in a position where he had to protect other people. He couldn’t blame his parents, or himself for that.

No, it was all _his_ fault. That grinning, pale faced maniac had killed his parents, traumatized his classmates, made a spectacle of his mother, who was just trying to do some good for this Damned city.

As the detective came back to talk to him about his options, Renjun seethed.

He hoped Red Hood was the one who found the Joker. It was what he deserved.

**Wayne Manor**

“Bruce, please, let someone else take him in,” Jisung pleaded. He’d never seen Bruce this shaken up. He hadn’t even been this bad when Goldfinch came back convinced he’d killed someone, or when Red Hood was bleeding out on the cave floor from a stab wound in his thigh.

He was sure Bruce had been crying. His eyes were red, and the garbage bin was overflowing with tissues. Now though, his shoulders were set with determination.

“I can’t Jisung. He’s my responsibility. If I had been faster, I could have at least saved his mother.”

“You can’t take responsibility for that! You did the best you could. What happened is squarely because of the Joker.” Jisung put his hands on his hips. “If you take him in, it’s going to be even more of a shakeup. Not to mention, he’ll probably figure out your identity, and then what? What if he blames you?”

“He is well within his rights to blame me.” Bruce wasn’t looking at him.

“No, no he’s not. But it looks like I’m not going to be able to convince you that this is actually a terrible idea.” Jisung leaned forward, putting his hands on the desk. The same intimidation tactic Jason had tried to use on him. “Just remember when this all comes crashing down, that I was right, and he would have been ok in a different home for the year.”

With that, Jisung turned on his toes and stalked out of the study.


	48. You Tell Yourself It Happened So You Could Save the Lives of Two or Three or Ten Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath part 2

**Rooftop: Park District, Gotham**

Jeno knew he shouldn’t be stewing, especially not on patrol, but he couldn’t help it. He knew Renjun must be hurting, but he still wasn’t answering Jeno’s texts. He tried to focus on the good he could do, both as Jeno Lee of the Gotham Academy Fencing Team, and as Sabre, but it was just so hard to get out of his own head. 

He’d failed one of his friends yet again. How could he consider himself a hero when he kept failing horribly?

A scream erupted from the alley below him. Maybe he could do some good here. That might make him feel better.

Sabre dropped down into the alley, drawing his sword as soon as his feet touched the ground, using his free hand to push his bleached-white bangs back. 

“Step away from the civilian,” he said, emerging from the shadows. Somehow, despite the bright white hair, the mugger hadn’t noticed him under the fire escape.

The mugger stepped back, squinting and tilting his head to the side. “Are you… Zorro?” he asked. His voice still trembled a bit, but Sabre really couldn’t blame him. 

“Call me Sabre,” Sabre said, gesturing for the citizen to run behind him and out the end of the alley. “Now, are you going to come to the police easily, or are you going to make me fight you?”

**Chinatown: Gotham City**

Red Robin and Goldfinch sat on the roof of an apartment complex, sharing a couple boxes of takeout.

“So this is your usual patrol route?” Goldfinch asked, munching a piece of orange chicken with way too much sinew.

“Some nights. Sometimes I’m uptown, but more often I’m here.” Red Robin was stirring his lo mein. He’d kind of lost his appetite since the incident at the high school. If he hadn’t dropped out, he’d still be a student there. Instead, he snuck out of a business meeting to go play hero, and not even effectively. 

He kept stirring the noodles.

“Red, come on. You know I didn’t ask to patrol with you to ask silly questions. You holding up ok?” Goldfinch nudged him. He was the last person Red Robin expected to care. 

Red Robin sighed. “He got away. He got away, and left a kid parentless in a volatile city, and now B’s going to try and adopt the kid, which I can’t help but think is a bad idea, but-”

“But you can see where he’s coming from, right?” Goldfinch was smiling softly at him.

“I just… I can’t help but feel like there was more I could have done.”

“You and me both, Red. I had the totally awesome job of calming down his two best friends.” 

Red Robin looked down at his noodles. “I know I shouldn’t complain. I was out there helping.”

“Is he actually planning on trying to adopt Junnie? He knows the kid is going to be definitively not a kid anymore in less than a year, right?” Goldfinch had stopped chewing. 

Red Robin’s hands stilled. “He feels some sort of responsibility for what happened. And like, I get it, but I’m worried.”

Goldfinch nudged him again. Red Robin looked up at him. “B’s not responsible for what happened and neither are you.”

“I have a plan, if he finds out about things.”

“That’s good. Does it involve the Titans?”

Red Robin frowned. “Not exactly. I’m going to try and persuade him not to go this route. If I don’t do it gently, Hood’s going to try and do it violently.”

Goldfinch scoffed. “You got that right. Did I ever tell you he threatened my sister while we were trying to sleep?”

_Jason no!_ Red Robin sighed. That’s why he’d been so upset at Christmas. 

“No, Finch, no you did not.”


	49. It's Not Home Until You Call It Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the protests of all the rest of the kids, Bruce has, in fact, adopted Renjun. Renjun is, understandably, not happy about this.

**Wayne Manor**

Renjun stalked through the entryway of Wayne Manor, not saying a word. He tugged his suitcase over the oriental rug in the middle of the entryway, dragged it and his art bag up the grand staircase, and found the first empty guest room to set up in. He couldn’t believe the social worker was making him live with _Bruce Wayne_ of all people. Nor that he was being transferred to Gotham Academy with less than a quarter left in the school year. 

He set up his easel on the desk with a blank canvas screaming for paint. His paints and brushes he placed next to it on the desk. He had a feeling he was going to be painting a lot there. Then, he folded his clothes and put them in the drawers. Something told him the paint was going to be mess enough for the people who lived here. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on his door.

“Hello? I get you probably don’t want to talk to anyone right now, but dinner’s going to be ready soon, and Alfred told me to come get you,” the person said. They sounded young. Probably Jason, the newest kid, then.

“I’ll be down in a bit. Still folding clothes.” It wasn’t a lie. He was just… also folding his laundry. He didn’t want to talk to anybody.

“You’re actually folding your clothes?” Was he being judged by a freshman?

“Does _Alfred Dearest_ fold your clothes for you?” he said in scathing reply.

“Uh… no? I just hang everything. It’s way easier.” Why was this kid still talking to him? 

“Look,” Jason continued, “You should come down and eat with everyone else. Isolation isn’t good for you, especially if you’re trying to make art.”

“I don’t really care, Jason. Just leave me alone.” That crease was going to be a bit harder than the others.

For a moment, Renjun thought the kid had finally left. But then, from the other side of the door, there came a soft “My name is Jisung. Please don’t call me Jason in front of Bruce. Regardless of how much of an idiot he can be, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Renjun gave it a couple of minutes before he peeked out the door. Once he was sure Jisung was gone, he headed down to dinner himself.

*******

“I don’t think he’s going to come down, Ji,” someone said in the kitchen. Whatever they were talking over smelled amazing, with plenty of sesame oil. 

“You’re probably right, Tim. It was worth a shot though. Thought he might rather talk to us than Bruce,” Jisung replied. “He’s kind of mean. Like, I know he’s lashing out because of all the… stuff. But it still stung.”

“I still can’t believe he called you Jason,” Tim chuckled. Tim was the older one, right? He still sounded so young.

“I’m pretty sure he thought it was my real name. The file said he’s not from Gotham originally, so he probably doesn’t know.”

“What don’t I know?” Renjun asked, coming around the corner. The only people at the dinner table were three teenagers -- probably Tim and Jisung, but he wasn’t sure who the girl was. On the table, was the most distractingly delicious looking spread Renjun had seen in a while. Soy braised short ribs with green beans, five ground vegetables, dumplings with paper-thin wrappers and bright red filling, and a beautiful soup that was probably the origin of the earthy smell underlining the salt and sesame and spice. 

“Uh… How many of us do you think there are? Wayne kids, I mean,” Jisung asked.

Renjun had to think on that for a moment. “Well, there’s you. There’s Tim. I know there’s an older brother somewhere, but he moved out. And this girl could either be your sister or Tim’s girlfriend.”

The girl snorted at that. “Tim brother,” she said.

“So that makes four,” Renjun said. He decided it was probably time to sit down. 

“Five, including you,” Tim corrected. 

Renjun scowled. He had very intentionally left himself out. He wasn’t a Wayne, and he never would be one. One year and he’d be 18, old enough to live on his own. Then it would be back to San Francisco for him. Far, far away from all the Gotham crazy.

“And,” Tim continued, “it’s actually six, if you count Jason. Most of us do, since Bruce is still grieving. It’s like he’s still around.” 


	50. If You Focus on What You Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjun is finally getting settled into his new life. Settling up with old friends, though, is going to be a challenge.

**Wayne Manor**

There were already more people living at Wayne Manor than was reasonable. Renjun realized that, if anyone should leave, it was him, especially since everyone else seemed to disappear on him. Sure, Jisung was there in the morning, and Cass tended to turn up in random places around the house. And Bruce… Bruce was either nowhere or _right there_. 

What even happened to Tim? It was like he hadn’t been home in a week. Renjun couldn’t imagine that he was just, what, living at Wayne Enterprises? 

No, the house was simultaneously always busy and far more empty than it should have been.

School was no cake walk either. Of course, he’d been transferred to Gotham Academy for the remainder of high school (all one year and two months). And _of course_ he got put in the class with two of the people he least wanted to see on the planet. 

He hadn’t said a word to Jeno or Jaemin for the entire week, even though they kept looking at him from across the room. He would almost call the look forlorn, if they had even attempted to talk to him since their own transfer. 

Instead he’d been pestered by the rest of the class. Of course, he made nice, showing off his sketchbook when asked, making pleasant conversation. He’d even sat with the sparkly boy and his sister at lunch one day. By the time he got home, Renjun was ready to throw himself into his art for the rest of the night.

He was, then, understandably upset when three more people -- people from school -- showed up at the Manor on Friday. In fact, he exited the room as soon as he saw the shock of Jeno’s bleach blond hair in the entryway. There was no way he was going to put himself through that trainwreck right then.

“Brother’s friends?” Cass said, making Renjun jump. 

“Used to be. They stopped talking to me months ago.” Renjun tried to scoot around her, but she cut him off.

“Still care,” she nodded. 

“If they did, they would have said something.”

Cass gave him a look, right up from under her eyebrows. “You still care.”

Renjun scoffed and pushed past her. He couldn’t say it to her face, but she was right.

***

Wayne Manor was… something else, that was for sure. Jaemin had never really been outside of the Cave before, and that entryway was about as different from the cave as you could get. Crystal chandelier, beautiful hardwood floors, furniture so pretty Jaemin was scared to sit on it, all finished off with a massive oriental carpet that he really hoped Bruce had bought himself.

He could let himself be distracted by the rug later though. He was on a mission -- to talk to a friend he’d been feeling guilty about leaving for most of the school year. If asked what they were doing here, the story was that they used Haechan’s connections to visit. They weren’t sure if Renjun would actually believe it.

If they could actually find him here, that was.

“Jae, you sure this is a good idea?” Jeno asked. 

“Of course. I haven’t exactly been the best friend since we got transferred. That’s something I need to change,” Jaemin answered as all three boys stepped further into the house. 

Haechan headed straight through to the gym, where Jisung was probably waiting. Jeno and Jaemin milled around for a bit. Before they could move to follow Haechan, or start looking for Renjun, a shape melted out of the shadows under the stairs.

“Renjun,” was Cass’s greeting to them. 

“Do you know where he is?” Jeno asked. 

Cass shook her head. “He hurts. Thinks you do not care.”

“He’s hiding, isn’t he.” Jaemin put a hand on Jeno’s shoulder as he spoke. He couldn’t blame Renjun, really. There had to be something he could do to make it up to him though. He needed time to think.

“Is there a kitchen here somewhere?” he asked. 

Cass gave him a sideways smile and gestured for him to follow. 

***

Renjun was brought out of his room by the smell of butter, sugar, and green tea. Alfred must have been trying out a new recipe. If it was a good one, maybe he’d be able to add it to the cookbook. 

Green tea flavored anything was always a gamble. Sometimes the tea powder just turned the confection green. Sometimes it made everything taste like grass. What you really wanted was something in the middle -- precisely in the middle if you could manage. The only option was to have someone taste the batter as you added the tea powder.

He considered this, chuckling at the image of Alfred tasting his own batter, as he walked down to the kitchen. 

When he got to the kitchen, Alfred was nowhere to be found though. Instead, Jaemin stood behind the peninsula, scooping bright green cookie dough onto stone sheets. There was a smear of matcha on his nose and a pile of white chocolate chips on the counter next to the bowl. 

“Wait!” Jaemin called as Renjun turned to walk out. “Try one?” 

Renjun turned back. Jaemin was holding a cookie out to him. It looked like it might break if he held it up for too much longer, fresh from the oven. Renjun didn’t say anything as he walked up to the counter. He took the other side of the cookie, tearing it in half. 

It was good. The white chocolate didn’t overwhelm the cookie, and the tea was just a little grassy. Jaemin had a thing for weird flavors though, so it wasn’t surprising that he tried to make them more bitter than the recipe probably said to.

“I want to apologize,” Jaemin said, putting down his half of the cookie. “I’ve been pretty terrible as a friend, and you don’t deserve that. I promise, I’m going to make it up to you.” 

The bite of the cookie felt like it was gluing his teeth together. Jeno he had expected this from. He was the one who had kept texting him, even after months of non-contact. Jaemin though -- Jaemin hadn’t even tried to talk to him. And now he was baking cookies in the Wayne family kitchen and swearing to “make it up to him.” 

Renjun did turn then, and walk out of the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk to either of them, but especially not Jaemin. 

He took the cookie with him. Maybe Jaemin would leave the rest.


	51. You Will Never Be Able to See What Lies Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenes from Renjun's new life. Jaemin tries to win his heart with food and Renjun notices more and more oddities the longer he lives with the Waynes.

**Gotham Academy**

A box of rose flavored sweets showed up on Renjun’s desk the next week. The shapes were irregular, probably homemade. There was no note, but Renjun was sure he knew where they came from. Jaemin had been watching him all day. 

Sparkly boy -- Haechan Lee, his name was -- came into class late. Renjun was coming to find out that Haechan’s lateness wasn’t exactly irregular. He’d been to the Manor a few times too, working on dances with Jisung. 

He hadn’t seen Haechan leave though. Maybe he left when Renjun was painting, or in a different part of the house. He couldn’t help but think that he would have heard him leave though. The echoes in that house were terrible.

Partway through the morning, Haechan stretched. His sleeves rode up his arms, and there, clear as day on his wrists were abrasions. It almost looked like rope burn. How did he get rope burn on his wrists? 

Looking more closely, Renjun could see that his makeup also covered his entire neck. It was well blended, but just slightly lighter than his natural skin tone. When Renjun asked about the injuries at lunch, Minhee talked over him, asking how his dance solo was going. Of course, Haechan answered Minhee. It was like he hadn’t heard Renjun’s question at all.

***

There was a jar of dirt on Renjun’s desk the next morning. Not dirt from the ground dirt, but chocolate pudding with crushed chocolate cookies and sour gummy worms. Jaemin was already at his desk, chatting it up with a kid with a soft voice and a couple of missing teeth. Haechan was wearing an oversized uniform sweater that covered his hands. 

Jeno came in just before the bell. He was walking gingerly, wincing when he took too heavy a step. He must have turned his ankle at fencing practice the night before. 

As soon as he sat down, Jaemin started whispering to him, just like they used to at Gotham High. Renjun didn’t want to feel bitter about how nothing seemed to have changed between them. He tried to keep the glower off his face. As far as the class was concerned, he was an innocent flower-boy. It would be bad to lose that layer of illusion just a couple of weeks into his time at this school. 

**Wayne Manor**

Tim stumbled into the kitchen while Renjun was eating breakfast. It was the first time he’d seen him in the house in probably a week and a half, and if Renjun was being perfectly honest, he looked half dead as he headed straight for the coffeemaker. 

“Tim, did you sleep?” Jisung asked as he entered the kitchen. He grabbed a slice of bread and got to making toast.

Tim mumbled something that sounded like _six_ to Renjun’s untrained ears.

“Six hours last night, or this week?” Jisung asked, squinting at Tim.

Tim just waved him off and brought the mug of coffee over to the table. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling.

“C’mon, man. You know you’re not supposed to be doing work at the breakfast table. If Alfred catches you, he’s gonna be upset,” Jisung said, bringing his toast over. A dark bruise was visible on his collar bone. 

Tim grumbled without looking up from his phone. 

***

Jeno and Jaemin had followed Haechan to the Manor again. Even so, Renjun couldn’t hear any of them in the house. Or Jisung. And Bruce had been noticeably absent for the past few days as well. 

**Gotham Academy**

Renjun was headed home when he saw Jeno’s locker was open, sabre laying out in the middle of the hallway. 

He might not have wanted to talk to Jeno, but that didn’t mean he wanted him to suffer the cruel and unusual financial punishment of replacing a sabre blade. Renjun knew how expensive those were. If that one broke, it was going to cost Jeno an arm and a leg to replace. 

When he tried to pick up the blade, though, it shocked him. Not a small, dry air, static electricity shock either. No, it made his fingers curl up, even as he yanked himself away from it. 

Why did Jeno have a sword outfited to act like a taser? Wasn’t that…

Why did Jeno have Sabre’s sword in his locker?


	52. Be Afraid.  Be Very Afraid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung was having a great day until Renjun cornered him. Really, he was.

**Bowery, Gotham**

Jisung had to hand it to Cass, she certainly had a way with kids. Or more specifically, she had a way with Freja. 

Cass had Freja on the bar Jisung’s charity had recently had installed in the Melisandre's activity room. Her hands were stabilizing Freja at the hips while Freja did her best to stretch. She smiled at Freja in the mirror, so much softer around the edges than Jisung was used to. 

Maybe the kids would be good for Cass too. And since it was a dance class they were running, she wouldn’t have to worry about her words. 

Jisung looked on with pride for a bit longer before moving to check on the rest of their students. The class was one for beginners, open to anyone in the community who wanted to join, completely free. At least he could give back this way. It… wasn’t something he ever even thought about doing when he was just Jisung Park of the lower wards. 

“Alright, now everyone bend your bottom knee. This is called a _plie_. You should feel the stretch in the thigh on your upper leg,” Jisung instructed. 

“It hurts, Jisung,” one of his former housemates, an elementary schooler named Leo, complained. 

“If it feels like you’re tearing something, slowly relax out of the stretch to somewhere more comfortable. If it’s just a stretching or burning sensation though, that’s good. That means it’s working.”

In the mirror, he could see Cass snicker, even as she helped Freja into the stretch.

***

By the time they got home, Jisung was ready for a shower. Even just doing the basics, the choreography he had the kids working on had him working up a sweat. None of the kids seemed to care. They were just having fun. 

Cass split off for her own bathroom when they entered the Manor. Jisung kind of wished she hadn’t. The Manor was creepy at the best of times, but when he was alone, it was extra-creepy. He would swear he could hear the house creaking as it settled into the foundation, echoing off the empty walls of the house. 

Jisung speed walked out of the entryway, up the stairs, and towards his bedroom. His footsteps echoed, sharper than the creaking of the house. 

He was almost to his room when a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, pinning him against the wall. His breath caught. In front of him was a _very_ upset looking Renjun.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Renjun growled, leaning into Jisung’s space even more. 

“Cass and I were teaching a dance class at my old group home. We just got back,” Jisung replied. He had to keep cool. It was hard though, trapped against the wall by Renjun. 

“When did you leave?” The tips of Renjun’s ears were turning red. 

“This morning? It’s on the calendar in the kitchen. I really don’t know why you’re interrogating me.” Right. Cool Jisung. Totally not intimidated.

“You’ve been gone since last night. I know something’s up, Jisung Park, and I know Jeno, Jaemin, and Haechan are all involved.”

Well that wasn’t good. 

“Last night I was working on a project with Chenle. We met up at his dorm room.” Partial truths, right? He had been working with Chenle on his training, teaching him the geography of Gotham. They’d just… been in the Cave.

Renjun wasn’t backing down. Instead, he leaned even further in, reaching one arm behind him and pulling out…

Jisung was half expecting a kitchen knife. Or even an exacto knife. Bruce’s stapler really came out of left field. 

“Wh- what are you doing with that?” Jisung was _really_ hoping someone would come around the corner and stop Renjun. He _really_ didn’t want to expose himself as Robin, right in the middle of the Manor.

“You’re going to tell me what it is you’re hiding, or I’m going to lodge a staple in your shoulder.” Renjun smiled at him, so obviously the fake one he used at school. “I hope you’re up to date on your tetanus shots.”

Well… somehow they were still alone. Renjun would probably staple him before Cass could come to the rescue, even if he screamed for her.

“What exactly do you _think_ we’ve been doing?” Maybe there was still a way to lie his way out of this.

Renjun reared back with the stapler, ready to lodge a tiny piece of metal in Jisung’s shoulder. “Answer the question Jisung.”

Jisung swallowed audibly. Nothing for it then. “Well, I’m-” and he ducked under Renjun’s arm, making a break for the stairs. He could probably outrun Renjun, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all, Cuffs here. 
> 
> Can you believe this chapter marks a full year of Round of Robins? I'm having a hard time believing it myself. Thank you so much for riding this emotional rollercoaster with us. I hope you all are ready for more drama, comedy, and superheroing for the next year. We've got lots of fun stuff planned. 
> 
> Stay tuned.


	53. An Honest Man Has Nothing to Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several people around Wayne Manor take umbrage with the way Renjun plays detective, not that Renjun acknowledges that.

**Wayne Manor**

_That sneaky little… _“You get back here, Jisung Park!” Renjun yelled as he ran after the boy in question. For a klutzy kid, Jisung sure was fast.

Jisung flipped over the railing of the stairs, right down into the entryway. He _flipped._ Renjun was growing more and more certain with every passing second that Jisung, Jeno, the whole lot of them, were in fact vigilantes. There was nothing else for it. 

Other than Jeno being Sabre, though, he wasn’t sure who was who. He needed Jisung to confirm. 

He slid down the banister after Jisung, stumbling when he got to the bottom. Jisung was most of the way across the entryway, headed for the front door. 

It dawned on Renjun then, as he picked himself up off the floor. Jisung was a dancer. A _street_ dancer. The only Bat who came remotely close to matching that profile was…

“Robin!” Renjun shouted. 

Jisung froze, just for a second, but that second was more than enough to confirm that Renjun was right. 

All of the pieces were falling into place.

***

Jisung didn’t return for lunch, or dinner. Instead, Tim served as Renjun’s company. _Red Robin_, Renjun noted. It would explain the long absences. If Tim was the CEO of a major company and starting up the Teen Titans over on the west coast, it made sense that he wouldn't spend much time at the Manor. 

Renjun didn’t bring it up with him. No, he couldn’t pressure Tim into confirming his suspicions (even if they were more than just suspicions now). He considered talking to Bruce, but that was liable to go over like a lead balloon. Cass hardly talked at all, and he _still_ hadn’t met this Dick Grayson who was supposed to be all of their older brother. 

No, it would have to be Jisung, or one of the kids from school. He couldn’t just start talking to Jeno and Jaemin again though. He’d been avoiding them for too long. Haechan had Minhee to cover for him, and seemed to be a convincing liar, besides that.

Really, he could have chuckled darkly, if Tim wasn’t _right there_. He didn’t even have confirmation that Jisung’s friend there was involved, but he would be shocked if the kid wasn’t at least aware of what was going on. 

The next time Chenle Zhong entered the house, he was going to show Renjun where the vigilantes hid.

***

“Hey, Chenle?” Renjun asked. “You spend a lot of time here. Have you found any cool secrets?” 

Chenle was pretty fearless. Renjun couldn’t threaten him like he did Jisung. He was going to have to go for something more subtle. 

“I found Mr. Officer Grayson’s room one time. That was neat,” Chenle answered. “Oh! There is the gym too! And there is one room that no one else goes near. I think Tim said it was Jason’s.”

Renjun nodded. That was interesting and all, but not at all what he was looking for. “I meant more like, secret passages and stuff. This house is old, but I haven’t been able to do much exploring myself.”

Chenle’s smile fell into something much more leery. So he _was_ in on it! Renjun cheered internally.

“I thought that was a myth. I have seen it in the movies, but I did not think it was true.” Despite the wonder in his tone, Chenle’s face was still flat, if not concerned. 

“Oh no, it’s-”

“Chenle? You here?” Jisung called from down the hall. 

“I am here, Jisung. R-” 

Chenle’s voice choked off before he finished the rest of the sentence. Renjun had him by the neck, in the crook of his elbow. He tightened his arm around Chenle’s neck ever so slightly. “We are going to find the best hiding place in this room,” Renjun whispered, “or so help me…” So much for subtlety.

He knew he wouldn’t have to finish the threat. Chenle pointed to a closet on an interior wall. Even if he was telling the truth (there’s no way he was), he’d help Renjun find the secrets of the building. 

***

Chenle was starting to see spots as they entered the closet. It was a non-threatening one -- no secret passages to anywhere, no entries to the Batcave -- there weren’t even cleaning supplies in there. 

The problem was, he hadn’t been able to leave any clues for the others. He probably wasn’t going to get rescued any time soon, and….

His vision wavered.

It was likely he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.

“Now,” Renjun whispered in his ear, “I _know_ there are secrets in this house, and I know that you,” he shook Chenle bodily, “are in the know about those secrets.”

His voice sounded like it was getting farther away. At the same time, though, Chenle was hyper aware of the arm around his throat. 

Renjun released just a bit when he realized why Chenle wasn’t responding. Chenle nearly blacked out then and there. 

“I do not - _gasp_ \- know what it is that you are talking about.” 

“Bruce’s hideout. For his vigilante stuff,” Renjun said, tightening his arm again. “Where. Is. It.”

In a moment born entirely of self-preservation, Chenle tapped out. He didn’t _think_ Renjun would kill him, but he wasn’t about to take that chance. If he was right in his thinking though, Bruce was in his office. He would “show” Renjun that entrance. 


	54. So I’m Trying My Best Not to Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renjun thinks he's got it all figured out. Bruce isn't ready.

**Wayne Manor**

It was never good when Chenle started smirking. Bruce understood the need to rebel, really, he was a very wealthy high society teenager once too. He’d like to think his rebellion was less… chaotic than Chenle’s though. 

As such, he was understandably nervous when Chenle poked his head into the office with that smirk on his face. Someone was going to regret having come into contact with him very soon, and Bruce had a sinking feeling it was going to be him.

“There is no one here,” Chenle said to someone in the hall. “Batman’s hideout is this way.”

Batman’s hideout? What was Chenle doing? That had better not be one of the kids from Danseur.

Bruce put down his pen and made to stand. As he got up, though, Chenle came right in, followed by _Renjun_.

“Chenle, you shouldn’t pull tricks on your friends’ siblings. We’ve had this discussion,” Bruce sighed. Of course Chenle was messing with Renjun. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why though. 

Chenle winced then, not the sheepish smile he usually held when he was being reprimanded. Was this not a prank on Renjun? 

Then, Bruce saw the redness over Chenle’s neck, and Renjun’s glower, directed at Chenle. 

“I am not tricking Renjun. He knows,” Chenle said, edging away from Renjun. 

He… knew. Renjun figured it out, and he hadn’t even made it into the cave. And for some reason, he had choked Chenle out. 

He looked back at the glower. He was going to need to have a chat with Renjun about his anger, it looked like.

***

Somehow, Bruce had ended up on the receiving end of Renjun’s reprimand, rather than the other way around. The two of them stood in the middle of the Batcave, Renjun chewing Bruce out. The rest of the family was due to show up at any minute. 

“Was this the real reason you transfered us all to Gotham Academy? Is that why we’re in so much more danger as your kids? How many of the _villains_ know who you are?” Renjun had been getting more and more quiet as his rant progressed. He was barely above a whisper by the time he got to that question.

“Renjun, I understand why you are upset, but being a Wayne really is just as dangerous as being a Bat, if not more so.” Bruce could only hope Renjun would listen. “We keep our secret identities as secret as possible in an effort to protect those we hold dear.”

“I can’t believe you!” Renjun threw his arms up and turned toward the stairs. “I have half a mind to report you to child services. Or the police.”

Before Renjun could get much further, a rumble erupted from near the Batmobile. Dick must have arrived. His first visit since Bruce had adopted Renjun. Bruce never imagined that their first meeting would have Dick in his Nightwing persona, but then, there was very little about Renjun that was proving to be predictable. 

“B? Did you get in an argument with one of the kids again? I was thinking of taking Z out tonight. He’s been doing well on the trapeze and I think it’s time for him to move up to grapple lines-” Dick stopped chattering as soon as he laid eyes on Renjun. 

Bruce sighed. “Nightwing, this is Renjun. You two haven’t met yet.”

“Renjun? Wow, that’s got to be the fastest one of us has figured it out, except maybe Tim, but he’s like, actually a genius,” Dick gave Renjun one of his easy smiles. Despite himself, Bruce found himself ready to smile right back. 

Renjun, though, raised one eyebrow at Dick, already dressed in his Nightwing black and blue. “I assume you must be Dick Grayson then. He’s the only member of the family I haven’t met yet.”

Dick’s smile dropped. “He met Jason before me? Seriously B?”

Renjun’s eyes widened. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for both Bruce and Dick to read his surprise. Dick smirked at him.

“I guess not,” Dick said. “Welcome to the wacky world of superheroes, kid. It’s a ride.”


	55. No Capes!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Time to bond with the Red Hood! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

**Batcave**

Dick had insisted on giving Renjun some form of training, even though Renjun had no intention of becoming a vigilante. Ever. He did have to agree, though, that a little bit of self defense training wouldn’t hurt.

He only started thinking about joining in the nighttime activities when he saw what a wreck their operations were. At the rate they were going, it’s no wonder they kept having allies get kidnapped. Or killed.

They really should operate more in pairs, if they were going to be doing this at all. Clearly they all needed someone to watch their backs. They were spread too thin.

That evening, for instance, Jaemin and Jeno had an early night. There was a tournament the next day. Apparently school policy for sports was that the entire team had to go to the venue as one entity. That meant Jeno and Jaemin needed to be up with the rest of the Gotham Academy Owls for the 8am Foil start time, regardless of the fact that Jeno’s only weapon was sabre, and that didn’t start until 3pm. Early start times meant early wake ups. And early wake ups meant no running on rooftops the night before.

Dick was stuck doing his actual job in Bludhaven. Murder didn’t wait for a reasonable time in the morning, after all.

Cass was on a solo mission in Hong Kong. Something about the Golden Dragons. Tim would be helping her, if only he wasn’t stuck in Jump City with John Stewart working on his Titans project.

That left Haechan, Jisung, Bruce, and Chenle. Haechan was patrolling one side of the city while Bruce and Jisung took the other. Chenle was at the computer. They called that _monitor duty_, but to Renjun it mostly looked like busy work.

Renjun mostly left Chenle to his monitoring, sketching out designs for a possible uniform. That was, until he got distracted by a rumbling sound coming from the vehicle entrance to the cave.

The figure that came into view, after the rumbling died down, was both instantly recognizable and painfully familiar. It was the first time he’d seen the Red Hood since the _incident_ after all (1). What he was doing in the Batcave, though, Renjun couldn’t say.

“Hey Chenle!” Hood called, reaching to unlatch his helmet as he walked further into the cave. “I heard your monitor buddy needed an early night. You doing ok?”

“I am ok,” Chenle replied brightly. Red Hood knew Chenle’s name… alright. That was unexpected.

Chenle continued, “He is quiet, but I have a different buddy for tonight.” Renjun could hear the smirk in his voice, even as he just gestured blindly at Renjun.

Red Hood, helmet under his arm by this point, turned slowly to look at Renjun, sitting with his sketchbook on the mats. Renjun suppressed a sharp intake of breath once he saw Hood’s face.

It was Peter. Peter Jasons was the Red Hood.

Peter ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ll catch up with you later, ok Chenle? Need to have a conversation with the new kid first.”

“That is ok, Jason. I will be here,” Chenle chirped from his desk.

Wait… Jason? That wasn’t…

Before Renjun’s thought process could get too much further, Peter/Jason was sitting next to him on the mat. Renjun was struck once again by just how _big_ he was. That definitely worked in his favor when he was doing his Red Hood things.

“Long time no see, huh?” Peter/Jason asked with an almost-laugh.

“Yeah…” Renjun couldn’t look at him, so he stared into his sketchbook instead.

“So… you’re probably a little confused right now, right? I know I am.” Peter/Jason said.

He was definitely right.

“Is your name Peter or Jason?” Renjun asked, hurriedly.

“It’s Jason. Jason Todd,” Jason replied.

Jason Todd? “But- how?” Renjun looked up at him then, right in the unnaturally aquamarine eyes.

Jason chuckled, not quite darkly. “It’s a long story.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Renjun looked back to his sketchbook -- open to the page he’d been working on -- suit designs for a possible alter-ego. So far, he knew it would be capeless. Capes were more of a liability than an advantage, no matter what Bruce and Tim said. And rather than cover the eyes, the sketches included a structured filtration mask covering his jaw, nose, and most of his cheekbones. Across the top of the page was scrawled the name he’d been considering: _The Cardinal_.

“Say,” Jason broke the silence, “You’re not thinking of becoming a kid superhero yourself, are you?”

“What’s it to ya?” Renjun half-growled.

“Well, y’see, part of that long story I mentioned earlier involves me being Robin. It didn’t end well.”

Oh… well that just got added to his list of grievances against the way things were run here.

Renjun decided to play it cool. He snorted and said, “That’s one more reason for me to join in then, isn’t it? Someone needs to keep an eye on these idiots and make sure no one else gets messed up.”

“You know _you_ could be the one getting messed up as a result, right?” Jason gave him a look that Renjun now recognized as entirely Alfred Pennyworth.

“I don’t think I need nightstalking to get in hella trouble.” Renjun winced as images of Didi danced across his vision.

Jason chuckled. “No, I suppose you don’t. What’re you gonna call yourself?”

“I was thinking something like Cardinal. You know, keep with the bird theme, but make my suit bright red to honor my rescuer?” Renjun half smiled.

“You never struck me as the flashy type, but somehow, it fits. What do you think, Chenle?” Jason called over towards the monitor.

No response came.

“Chenle? You didn’t fall asleep, did you?” Renjun asked, getting up to approach the chair.

“Shit,” Jason said from over his shoulder as they turned the chair around.

Chenle was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. See [The Ones Left Behind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372441/chapters/61522765)


	56. Strange Things are Afoot in the Narrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chickadee is in for an excellent time. Arsenal's evening is significantly more heinous.

**Rooftop: Narrows**

Chickadee dropped down onto the fire escape as quietly as possible. If he was going to pull off Operation: Rescue Robin from Ridiculous Rogue, he was going to need some sort of a weapon. Jason probably had better ones than they did in the cave, and if he did this quickly enough, and slyly enough, no one would have to know he was involved at all. 

Finding Jason’s apartment hadn’t been all that difficult. It was registered to a Todd Peterson, rent was paid in cash, and there were no security cameras for blocks. Chickadee had found it months ago while he was bored on monitor duty, but he hadn’t told anyone. 

He slipped in the window -- already opened. He hadn’t expected Jason’s security to be so lax. 

Almost immediately, he slipped under the coffee table. A tall man with a bright orange ponytail, wearing a sleeveless red suit wandered in from the bedroom. It wasn’t Jason’s security that was lax. There was a person in his apartment!

The person set something down on top of the coffee table and wandered off again. Chickadee waited until he couldn’t hear footsteps anymore, before he slid out from under the table to go search for a weapon. 

Lo and behold, there on the table was a beautiful scarlet bow and a matching quiver full of arrows. A long range rifle with tranquilizer darts really would have been more Chickadee’s speed, but he could work with ancient tech too. 

Chickadee scooped up the bow, slung the quiver over his shoulder, and was out the window before the orange-ponytail man was any the wiser. 

**Batcave: Earlier**

Chenle really hadn’t expected Jason and Renjun to get along as well as they did, but he definitely wasn’t upset about it. He also liked Jason, and as far as he was concerned, the more people treated Jason like a person, the better. 

He focused back on his monitor while the two of them talked. 

Robin and Batman had gotten separated on their patrol route. Something was happening in the warehouse district, but it seemed like Batman had it handled. 

At least, until Robin’s distress beacon went up, and promptly went silent. 

Chenle rewound through the footage he had following Robin. Just after he and Batman split off, Robin walked right into a trap set by Two Face. How was he involved in this? There hadn’t been any doubles or twos involved at all, as far as Chenle was aware. Did Batman notice something?

Oh, but they were called the _Dynamic Duo_ in the last issue of the _Gotham Gazette_. Maybe that was enough. 

Back at the live feed, Batman was busy with henchmen, it looked like, and Goldfinch was too far away to be able to get Robin in time. He could call Oracle and have her send Batwoman in, but Chenle was pretty sure Oracle was having a girl’s night or something. And Red Hood rescuing Robin wouldn’t be out of the question, but he and Renjun seemed like they were bonding. 

No, Chenle decided he was going to have to go out and rescue Robin himself.

**Apartment Registered to Todd Peterson**

Oh boy was Roy in for it. He’d left the window open for some air -- Jason’s apartment was really stale, and it was such a nice spring night -- and now his equipment was missing. At least nothing else was missing. After closing the window and enabling the security system, the first thing Roy had done was inventory. Everything was accounted for except his bow and quiver. Irregardless, Jason was going to be peeved.

“Come in Arsenal? We’ve got a situation.” Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Yeah, Hood, we got a situation here too,” Roy said.

“You haven’t even left- Arsenal, this is serious. Chickadee’s gone missing. His tracker’s last update was from our area.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Though Roy had a sneaking suspicion that he should have.

“I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. What are you thinking?”

“I think he might be responsible for my situation too.”

The com crackled a bit before Jason replied. “And how, praytell, do you figure that.”

“I think he stole my bow.” 

“What?” Jason roared. 

Roy winced. “Jeez, Jay, not so loud. You coulda blown my eardrum right out.”

The silence said more than Jason would ever need to. “I’ll get out there and start looking for him. Arrows or no arrows, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”


End file.
